Andrew’s agreeable and smoother co-host Nate Meyvis (departed) provides good cop, good cop back-up. Thinking Poker shares length with many other poker podcasts, but actually works with a more focused long-form, as opposed to the five minute, say-hello prop-ops, or the aimless hour of poker gossip that is the methodology of many other, less popular and fading shows: lesson there, boys and girls. Admittedly, some things have always gotten in the way. Thanks to their unchanged theme music, I’ll have to forever associate their poker strategy discussion with a depressing woman who does not inspire enough sexual devotion from her man; cue horn of lament. However, that’s just our hosts’ extraction for entry – nothing is ever free.

Notably, Andrew and Nate have been on the ball with AI poker developments, not only interviewing scientists but reporting on their play against the machine. Thinking Poker smartly kicks off the pod with a strategy segment. This pod is hundreds of hours of serious and moderately fun content – and they are not stopping, having just unveiled a new, more navigable website. In the poker podcasts category of the GPI awards, this was one of my selections. [2021] Andrew, mostly by himself it seems, continues to carry the banner, while selling a bit more product.  Inevitably, amiable tournament try-hard Carlos Welch replaces the increasingly absent Nate Meyvis at the end of the year, but it’s the continuity of a great show that is the real story. Andrew’s 20-year cold is getting worse; he will become the Slavoj Zizek of poker eventually, not an entirely bad thing. [4/2022] Episode on tournaments is revelatory, but not in the way you might think. This post-hoc, rationalizing strategy tendency shows how empty and unsolved much of poker, especially tournament poker is. Winners win, yes, but winners also hawk content. Of course your stack had value earlier in the tournament – who were these experts who said otherwise? Well, they have your training dollars, but no one knows where they are now. Listening to our assorted sun-running rubes explain their strategy is the emperor removing his remaining clothes, but in this case the joke is on the audience for admiring such an ugly strip-tease. Brokos, fortunately, is at heart better than this and has mostly stuck to the fundamentals for years now. [9/2022] Alex Jacob of trivia fame comes on but no word on his wife’s opinionated twitter takes; he’s tired of poker and likes, well, trivia. The pod partners with killer ap GTOW: time to make some money. [12/2022] At this point the pod is as much about its stellar catalog as its recent episodes. [5/23] New episodes with the women of poker and Saulo are strong – Andrew is the rock of poker strategy podcasting.

Thinking Poker, in a teensy bit of a torpor for a while, rose up for a stellar 2023. So good, in fact, Andrew and Carlos can have a “best-of” episode that doesn’t feel thin. Now that’s a meaty podcast. [2/24] I check out the Isaac Haxton podcast with high hopes but it’s quite the let-down, being mostly empty until the discussion on multiway solves and theory.

Episodes with Sundiata, Charlie and Daniel Levine, despite some “late capitalism” babble, round out a strong half year for poker’s premier podcast. Would have liked to hear a lot more on Levine’s debt issue, which has bearing on many poker players.

As Andrew expresses more opinions on society, a sub-sequence of apparently underrepresented poker sub-groups appear on the show. Andrew publicly lamented the “culture war cringe” of his fellow poker players, but it’s all just à son gout, given his own guest and message predilections. This comes to a head as they bring on culture warrior A.R. Moxon, who I am interested to hear from. A hammer-seeks-nail type, I’m prepared to be underwhelmed, but it’s revealed Moxon once had a poker blog, adding a personal twist and surprise. Of late, it occurs to me that the death of poker blogs and writing doesn’t really make that much sense and is worth a discussion. Moxon himself has a Substack and writing in general remains important online – but not in poker. However, maybe the truth and the energy is more in what Moxon is famous for – strong social media takes, not anything substantive. It’s not really that helpful, for instance, to be against a 1930’s Italian political movement, even if you can make a case that all politics, even the nuances of the present, are explicable through this lens. I can only wonder if Moxon (Andrew B. doesn’t seem to know) is aware who Trump was even talking about with the “very fine people” thing- it’s curious that people need to bend the truth when Trump is easily attacked on almost every issue. (Granted, no one earns his bad faith like Trump.) Moxon emphasizes the ease of getting into games when talking about the boom – certainly a problem now. In the same episode, Andrew and Carlos go over a question on the old Harrington “M” formulation. It seems rather obvious that there is no great differentiation between “M” and counting big blinds, given both in this context are merely “reframes” of the stack, but tournament players might get something out of the discussion. Carlos makes an empty promise to use M moving forward, which I find amusing. It’s ok, no one is concerned and Uncle Dan sleeps well. It’s worth thinking about what it takes to make it in poker now as compared to the good old days – and what the relationship is between Moxon’s poker generation and their current political obsessions. What’s striking is that for all his online anger and partisanship, Moxon seems to know himself and to realize what a one-note instrument he plays. He has no answers, isn’t interested in getting into politics, and doesn’t seem to see how resilient “the system” has already proven to challenges. The real version of the “whinging” poster is quiet, because, well, look outside: things are pretty good. Still, I’d venture that Brokos has only scratched the surface of his more pointed political agenda- looking forward to more.

I had looked forward to the Tom McEvoy episode, but it’s a struggle to listen to. It’s time for a new best podcast but there is no clear candidate to replace Thinking Poker at the moment. With its humorously plodding theme music of personal failure and the host’s voice as the only real negatives, it’s fair both to say that aesthetics is the one thing that have been holding this podcast back from many awards and accolades. As Joe Stapleton arrogantly promised, the people that matter will work behind the scenes to correct the democratic process. The irony being that Andrew (and I suppose Carlos, at this point) deserves the GPI award more than anyone. Funny world.

A timely episode on Marc Goone is fine and expands slightly on his unusual strategy, although poor Carlos is too easily bamboozled by Marc’s slightly disrespectful conversational strategy. I suppose I must mention that the episode begins with more than ten-minutes of election throat clearing. While I didn’t vote for Trump, I have to wonder why centrists like Andrew are so sanctimonious about their modestly different politics – do they not get any pushback? Likely not – he’s moving to Bluesky to avoid the rambunctious general American culture. Still, this is clearly on a short list of the most influential poker pods ever – one that has given Andrew, Nate, and Carlos a whole career and business. This is success.

Returning to it, the AK/GPI/Tom McAvoy episode is light and pleasant. The euro/tournament wave has given The Chip Race an edge in GPI voting that even Andrew’s popularity can’t conquer. It doesn’t matter much – Brokos and Welch have created a whole business out of their podcast base alone, unlike the Chip Race, aided by Unibet. (I suppose this point is no longer relevant given all the sponsorship success.)

May 2025 episode with Jason Su hits some good points that weren’t covered in other appearances. Podcast heads toward 500 episodes. Episodes continue strong through the WSOP. No one really competes with TP as a general strategy and interview podcast; aesthetics remains their only real unconquered challenge.

Latest episodes are on the rambling side. Life prodigy Joel Porter-Dias gets a triple feature. One highlight is the discussion, via the subject of AI, of why students become and stay students. The pair emphasize the human connection. Carlos compares his work to a trainer’s, somewhat aligning himself with Alvin Lau, who strongly believes students should not jump around. Joel defends AI on the basis of availability. Nate, if anything, understates just how poorly the LLMs handle games or really, anything that involves rationality. (This subject is worth a whole, more focused episode.) As we go deeper into our podcast cups, Joel makes, among other strong claims, the outrageous one that “we know” how the J4 cheating happened; everyone loves a good eccentric. When JPD returns for yet another episode, I realize it is hard to know where the reality ends and the blarney begins, as he tells a quasi-believable AP slots story with some likely exaggerations but then claims to not mind colluders because you can beat them. This was Doyle’s line but most people don’t tolerate cheating so breezily, if only to protect themselves and the table. Our hosts seem to remain entranced; however, when Brokos refers to JPD as a “storyteller,” is he being especially subtle?

New Year brings on entrepreneur Victoria Livshitz. It’s always interesting to hear from those who can simply enter at the highest levels of the game, they tend to have a more unbiased view of the industry. She correctly identifies weaknesses in the industry software but seems to miss why things are the way they are in her quest to duplicate the chess experience. The audio experience in this pod is far better than usual; either Andrew is committed to a better sound or perhaps it’s simple tech which Victoria, who is clearly wealthy, brings to the interview. Victoria supplies some shocking information from her market research: the recreational player wants to pay no more than 20$ per month in training fees. Andrew poses the woman question and Victoria goes for it, but neither are really interested in interrogating the data or the behaviors. Victoria thinks women were “locked out” of poker before the past couple years; our mythologies are too important to us, even to poker’s most analytical minds. Still, she recognizes what is really happening: “excellence” conquers the day. Where is the Lucky Chewy conflict explanation/gossip? There’s a more real gender conflict, one with the characteristics apparently reversed. We end on AI, which is always a good topic. Victoria’s dispassionate explanations throughout the pod are very satisfying – she really may be the man of the hour.

Rating: AKo

The pod’s theme music represents complexity, panic, or alertness but doesn’t seem to mirror the staid host at all; we even see some pedestrian online complaining that he is headed for a giant loss in November when negative volatility finally arrives. Then, breakthrough: Charlie, in one of the better moments in all of poker podcasting, convincingly and plainly describes the real feeling of being lost in the dark forest of the poker game. In other words, the music was never really about his turtlenecked presentation at all, it’s about what can be going on internally. So many good episodes already, including one where Charlie sees through the illusory nature of the Texas games. The December Having a Plan commentary is sharply insightful, and Charlie retells the notorious IQ anecdote as well as possible; he is an unusually bright voice of the genuine game. I did not really enjoy episode 13, which Charlie dedicated to taking down Matt Berkey. We have to wonder if Garret Adelstein or other unusual winning players would take such grief if they dared teach or share questionable ideas with such an ungrateful bunch as the poker community. Charlie, himself an artist, dismissively refers to Berkey’s vocabulary, his interesting poker imagination, and even his personality itself during this regrettably small-minded review; no one fair thinks Berkey teaches his punts nor is unable to translate his concepts into more standard ones. In another podcast, Charlie admits to being judgmental – it may be holding him back not only in poker but in the tone of the podcast, which is a tad austere (in one episode he castigates the very degens he takes his income from when they participate in covid parties). More to the point, Charlie gets kicked out of his online berry patch whereas the whole point of Berkey’s style revolves around staying in such a game. Despite this paean to homogenous poker thinking and his directive to “follow the solver,” I’m overall very impressed by Charlie’s content, especially given this solo pod format tends to flame out quickly; he is persistent and a winner in many ways. Great title, too. Can Charlie be a poker stream commentator? Apparently, I’m just out of it, because he already is one, it’s simply for the increasingly left-behind LATB from which we have been thankfully relieved by the Hustler. With his talent, Charlie can likely separate himself from tank-tapping shoutout master JJ and find a bigger, better platform. In fact, I would say poker media, currently starving of new, intelligent voices, actually needs him, but for now, he is a boutique poker interest. [2022] 3MW was not in the GPI nominations, confirming much of what we know about that bumbling if genuinely well-meaning effort by Eric Danis. Later, in an episode on tournaments Charlie whacks almost all the moles but somehow misses the most obvious conclusion as to why he has done poorly in tournaments compared to his bread and butter; all narrators are unreliable and all characters blind.  Next, he moves to some self-examination which re-reveals an otherwise sedate and contented man alienated by the brave high-wire act he has taken up; the gentrification of the prole space of poker has created these odd juxtapositions, where upright Protestant mores overlap the criminal, free-wheeling element that also made America. For poker players, it seems that surviving these contradictions requires a lot of self-talk and media self-projection, usually trending along the poles of Goggins the father or Brene Brown/Elliot Roe the mother. If or when the shoe slips the wire, how will comfortable Charlie respond? Some hints in his paranoia that a strong opponent may be playing back at him. In other words, this is good stuff, containing a certain psy-drama I hadn’t noticed until now; bumping the score.

Next, 3MW moves to CLP, (I suppose fulfilling the prophesy that he would move up the industry ladder, we’ll see if his tethering to the floundering LATB remains) complete with an unexpected 60’s meets the 30’s logo; will the walking man turn and shoot, Albert Broccolli style? Or just fold massive hands to tepid jokes on Insta? In any case, the subtitle to the podcast no longer makes sense, now ensconced and supported by the populous site that held Limon’s babies hostage and draws almost as much attention from the friendly noobs as RCP itself. Cue brass section and stratocaster for a new chapter. In his first CLP sponsored outing, Charlie describes the soft games of L.A. His long-term goal will have to be how to help foster this game state, whether he knows it or not. When you profess to something, it is a commitment to the vitality of a way of life- that’s why true pros in poker are few and far between, and what we have instead a lot of intelligent but misguided young men on extended wanderlusten, grasping at crypto, productivity theories, social media trickle down treacle and the other falling stars of our galactic American decadence.  Latest episode feels more CLP already as Charlie recreates the old Bart Hanson session reviews he recounts enjoying. He closes May with a nuanced take on cheating and self-deception. More cheating next, this time with Houston “Arlan Eustis” Curtis’ book. It’s an opportunity to take on more nuance but this time Charlie is outraged, clearly influenced by his work connection; even the funny phrase “respectable poker community” somehow escapes his lips. However, all the irony pales when the upshot of the episode is that Inspector Cloujoe will apparently get to the bottom of this. I want to dismiss the next episode as listener question filler for a podcaster who wants a break, especially when it starts with the “what do I do if I’m tired of running, coach” stuff, but Charlie closes the episode with an almost meditation-worthy reflection on the pro poker life. Steve Albini turns out to be more interesting than his social media regurgitations imply, especially when Charlie gets him going on expected value in life and the game. The month closes with hands and strategy and more unusually clear-headed observations on where edge comes from; however, no comments on the inherent contradictions of the “studied” style and remaining on your favorite beach. Do the CLPers point out the flaws in the hand strategy or is it all praise and useless sympathetic emojis? Suddenly it appears that, like Billy, Charlie might be more alone, not less, having achieved public success. I suppose all themes are eternal.

August begins with news of Charlie continuing his industry laddering, this time to commentator on the rowdy and popular Hustler stream. The pod covers the agony of bomb pots, which are the ultimate test of one’s grasp of poker theory, as well as a fun moment of bitchiness. September closes with a good session report, where Charlie captures some poker reality, although one has to wonder: almost all live sessions get weird and are full of weirdos here in LV, so are things really that good in California? The pod carries on into autumn with lots of short form poker culture commentary.

As 2022 winds down, it’s clear Charlie is feeling a tad aimless; the podcast is probably going to be revised or rejuvenated in some way, because the overall story has lost its trajectory and the episodes are increasingly, well, episodic. What’s happened is that the Hustler shake-up and world economy has trickled down and thrown off LA poker’s path in an interesting and unnerving way. Blame the immigrants, AM Bart reminds us, and not incorrectly, alas. Charlie also has slightly struggled to truly incorporate the outsider aspect of the podcast into the CLP fold. In the final episode of the year, Charlie returns to what is his favorite structure: an oral essay on some poignant topic followed by some CLP-influenced hand reviews. The portrayal of poker has been deeply misconstrued, especially by the 2+2 clown crew, and it’s gratifying to hear a far smarter take on the matter, as well as an acknowledgement of the embarrassingly maligned Card Counter. The poker “community” does not know how good they have it when it comes to films, just as they are mostly unaware of how lucky they are to have Charlie’s occasional meditations.

[2/23] A tone new or less common to Charlie’s programming emerges briefly in an opinion piece on how regs and pros aren’t maximizing; he sounds less objective and older, all of a sudden – a man with opinions and experiences defending himself from some unnamed accusation. Meanwhile, his hand reviews continue to have a humorous, cat-playing-with-mice quality. The games are good, as he himself says. [4/23] Latest essay on being good for the game is so vacillating it could be a hidden simile for equilibrium frequencies. However, that’s somewhat fair – being good for the game requires judgement only the most senior players can truly balance, and has been abused of late by those who need to justify themselves. Truthiness, if not truth, is our watch word. As the WSOP winds up its frenzy of equity lottery convolutions, Wilmoth, allergic to such variance, instead chooses to take poker marketeer Jonathan Little’s side in a minor squabble over the semantics of the poker dream. Of course, Berkey’s real point could never be stated by those with reputations worth their weekly laundering: Little is the most successful hustler of meaninglessness and soured poker knowledge in the game itself, and so seeing his anodyne trivialities show up in your feed might sometimes inspire irritation, even for the made men of poker with better things to do. The irony being, bloviating Berkey can’t help himself from leaning in, but neither can cautious Charlie, in his always more modest way. Next, good take on the Molly’s Game movie and book.

September closes with something long in coming: a full-length monologue on the nature of the games and the nature of the players. It’s a little awkward as the thesis gets lost, and Charlie is embarrassed at the end, but such is the nature of a fully grown thought, one whose conclusions force the writer to stick his neck out beyond the acceptable; it’s something many humans will never know or even find sympathy for. Ideas are also incredibly cheap, which is paradoxical and hard for us to understand in a market economy: the audience will soon want more hand histories and will only tolerate so much freedom in the voice coming from the speakers. It’s all on point, though, given the subject: why are we really doing all this and so who are we? As Nancy Mitford comforted a distressed young wife, don’t worry, all the shopping and the shoes are supposed to distract you; in other words, it’s because you’re doing something for society, not actually for yourself, that you are driven to focus on trivialities, yet we aren’t doing much for anyone in poker while we shop for more shoes. Or put differently, what’s really happening is distressing to the creature, but the rewards are often there so that you might better carry out your communal duty without too much pain; it’s merely odd that we still must occasionally confront reality in poker when so many of us are here only to escape it. Charlie mentions the importance of vlogs, in spite of their uniformity and obligatory dullness, but can’t bring himself to underscore the obvious, that they are good but simply too much of a marketing toy to stand in for culture. Culture is not really about marketing, even in the heart of market capitalism: selling yourself is not happiness, communing with the ideas and people you love is. Self-improvement and self-improvement culture are therefore fine things taken in measure, because self-betterment is the minimum of what we can offer the world (self is the clue, if you needed one); the problem is, endless time at the table and self-improvement off it are aligned mostly in the promotion of sleepwalking. Cue zombie thumbnail.

As the year closes, Charlie soberly reports on a tough month, including an interesting hand where he uses small bets – linearity – to gain max EV but of course takes a tough loss. The negative results of our most marginal yet high EV decisions can feel like bad luck, however that is slightly imprecise. The negative result is only the mirror of the all the positive results of the same strategy. Was he running well before? No. The strategy is merely working, and we now pay the cost of our strategy during the loss. If you don’t realize this, then you merely are running well or running badly, and poker remains a dark forest. Confronting the vicissitudes of your play is a step in ultimate mastery, a mastery many players don’t even know exists: even the vocabulary of the winner is better than the loser’s. On a side note, it’s worth noting that while Charlie’s sophistication can make the bigger public games sound tough, the play of his opponents, and moreover, Charlie’s own ability to rely on relatively simple poker concepts over and over, demonstrates how little difference there is between stakes. It’s subtle but there for those with the ear.

In episode 80 Charlie returns to one of his subthemes, as creators should: tournaments. The equity lottery is mostly conquered the same way any lottery is conquered, with volume and taking good odds such as favorable structures and overlays. Charlie, like others in the shrinking community of live cash pros, just doesn’t have time for this luxury, however. What’s notable is not these old thoughts, but that all of us in poker must confront the tournament beast in his own way, given so much of poker liquidity is now shunted into its novelty format. If he had run better, we’d maybe be hearing a different story. It’s still worth noting some players really are better at the format, mainly revolving around certain inflection points that cash players might not emphasize enough. Charlie also goes over the myths of the ME, which I think are important to explode and which the community itself has begun to market police. Still, something bothers me about all this: a great poker player takes on all games and all forms. I suspect we will be back to this subject every year, like an allergic irritation that never heals. Perhaps the answer is much closer than we think: Charlie realizes he is providing entertainment to some backer. The tournament scene may simply be the big tent of our industry, and not taking part might simply and strangely be too stubborn an act in a field already devoted to selfishness.

I can only honestly describe my reaction to Charlie’s “Anatomy of a Downswing” episode as vinegary. For those of us who have been mushing in the back of the pack, smelling the run-good ass of the other dogs in front of us, the recounting of another’s downswing seems ever so slightly and wryly maudlin. In The Last Emperor, the once man-god, now in a reeducation camp, is taught to pee on the side of the toilet bowl so as to not wake his fellow prisoners: welcome to 2/5. What I have been doing at the table for years now, while carving out my desperate wins, is keeping and counting the ante chips as an emotional reward and a counter of good play; if I start to play poorly, I put them back in play as punishment, or even more causally, I simply don’t earn any because I am not winning the small pots that can keep a player alive. Charlie’s boredom, in other words, is what grates: it’s too much of a luxury when all some of the prisoners want is sun. Admittedly, there is strangeness given that I am running well at the moment after three years of struggle. I learned, without realizing it was not normal and rather pathetic, to fear every premium pair, wondering how I would lose or have to fold; that I win now is almost inexplicable, as inexplicable as the excitement others always got to feel when looking at AA. I could never understand why they thought they would win. When Third Man Walking started, Charlie was confident and in the midst of an eighteen month win streak: it feels like a movement around the sun of poker is complete. In fact, an entire world has turned, especially in L.A. poker. HCL rose and has now peaked, drawing Charlie and Billy and Christian and Marc and others into the orbit.  They believed and said different things; notice how they all changed. One is slowly leaving for the investment space but hanging onto the fruits of minor celebrity. One didn’t believe Charlie’s wins were even possible and liked to give bizarre, emotionally strained lectures on variance; one was so arrogant and berated fish so much on his stream even his coach had to stop him, but now lives on vibes, having been seduced by Billy’s vision. Meanwhile, foolish pros are foolishly debating variance on Twoplustwo with the people who basically invented strategy, all while Billy is struggling with the most anodyne comments on his choices. So goes the chaos of poker, which is not just its results, but the tumult of people and places that it causes. A true anatomy of cause and effect and the all-too unremarked-upon lives we lead in poker is rarely performed. The road through Nebraska is a good and dark image, and the episode will make good rubbernecking for winners and losers alike, but it is an incomplete one. The road is long and full of interesting things beyond winning – boredom is not really allowable nor ultimately tolerated by the pack.

Go deeper, though, and the looking glass changes. In Part II of the Anatomy, Charlie finds unexplored territory, finally becoming personal after all these years. Welcome to the club, here is your donut. He rambles and babbles about a hand that isn’t really that crazy (floating with backdoors to two different hands and an overcard getting what sounds like no worse than 3:1, I wonder what the goofs at CLP will say), joins us in worse behavior at the table, and most interestingly, tells us two dreams. He is the sheriff at the end of No Country, beaten and babbling to his wife without knowing why. The first is interesting but the second is more important to his downswing, as he seems to think the meaning is he can’t get back into the winning place. However, the obligation to bring the donuts, and failing to do so without being aided by directions is a more striking interpretation: what in his life has he been missing, dodging, not taking responsibility for? Perhaps he will find peace when he confronts this and grows. Only then can Marin return to St. Columbe and know the meaning of the music. Variance is often simply the reverse end of our strategy; if you always bet the river on a terrible runout in the middle of your value range, sometimes you get fucked instead of how you were rewarded last month. Until then, at least we get a pretty awesome and surrealist episode. Have some stars. (It’s worth noting that when the podcast ended, Spotify chose to start some ridiculous episode of Joe Stapleton, braying and ballyhooing his 300th episode of whatever. Joe is a poker commentator who can’t play poker, who has never had one original thought about the game and has certainly never earned his bread at the table. Only the true players can understand anything, as poor, rundown, or just briefly beaten on the felt. Poker remains a brotherhood at heart, no matter how much the boom and media make it An Entertainment.)

In another downswing installment, Charlie starts to heal, thanks greatly to one of the biggest themes of the grinder, that is to say, the necessity of importing meaning into one’s poker life rather than trying to live on winning. In fact, he goes so far as to suggest it’s at least remotely possible he could leave the game. It’s not the surprise it could appear to be: there are few true professionals, only a lot of searching young men on a wanderlust sabbatical from the world.

June 2024 begins with an aspirational episode where Charlie seems to be using the bump of commentating on the million-dollar game to give him the impetus for some downswing-shaking decisiveness. It creates a new, previously unheard-of tone for the podcast, one which is usually more stuck in his head and the search for meaning. He sagely skips the WSOP for short-term benefit. He wrestles with two explanations for his downswing, both of which are unconvincing. He makes a reasonable exploitive fold with JJ and gets shown a worse hand – in 2023 that would have been the right play, but now he’s catching the reciprocal of his winning logic. Is that running bad or playing bad? No, but it doesn’t mean it feels good to be an imperfect being. Some more low-stakes nonsense somehow doesn’t spoil his temper – good to hear a man live up to his reputation, to paraphrase the Queen of Thornes.

Episode 91 continues the wriggling out of variance, a new subtone to the pod and it’s not surprising to hear an unexpected essay on where the good games hide and their internal rules.  He might do this or he might do that, vacillating. He fantasizes about slow rolling someone. He mentions “content” and laughs at tourney vlog coverage but quickly wants to suffer for even this unseemliness; Charlie restrains some of his real opinions, so that, apparently, we might hear them if he really runs bad. Many share this same code, that the Gods forsake us but if we complain they strike us. However, let me go unnoticed is a difficult code, especially for the public figure. Winning looks better on a man, and certainly makes this stuff easier. The Gods are pitiless, though, and might torment him more just to pull the snail further out of the shell. Of course the game is not about mastering KQ – what value to society is that? Charlie is chasing his own tail but other tails as well: comets, snipes, snarks, gremlins. Good content involves all of this- some things never change and aren’t about poker at all.

Mid-July brings some closure to the half-year downswing, and maybe other things, too. Charlie at first sounds a bit angry or defiant, as if he had to go through a hazing. However, the hazing is done and as we settle into the hands, we can only wonder how he will confront the existential meaning. By the end of the pod, the undercurrent of defiance is gone; we are again laughing at the confusion of the novice and refocused on our own procedural life. What has changed? The graph goes up, the graph goes down, he says, a line that has been said in all wise corners. The poker player is in the end a sort of martial artist, a mental Samourai. His meaning is found in warrior’s codes, not class and political and philosophical treatises. He is ready for Nebraska because he went through Montana. He must be ready to do battle and accept defeat as graciously and nobly as possible. He sleeps in the day if the battle is at night; he sleeps in the night if the battle is in the day: the poker player is no regular civilian. With this podcast and a few others seeming to reach their apotheosis, it is a good time to turn to other efforts and find the greater pattern.

Over the late summer and start of fall, Charlie starts coming out of the daze of his downswing. It will be curious what happens, but for now he seems a bit shellshocked, recovering from almost sickness. This is reflected in his positional non-positions on straddling (I have to listen to this episode’s essay multiple times to even begin to understand it), and an equally squishy reaction to Nick Vertucci’s latest, and apparently last, fuck up. Poker is redeemable, I have just written about how once again, but the idea of being shocked at the “rot going straight to the top” is funny because that’s easy and too obvious. Start with this: be the difference – there is no real poker community save the one you make, every individual matters, and the leaders are not the leaders. Or don’t do anything but wring your hands as little as possible. We all know why we are here, and that is at least in part because there are scummy people bringing money to a space it doesn’t otherwise go, and we are good at juggling to their amusement while picking their pocket. You cannot escape the atmosphere of the planet you inhabit. Even after all this time, Charlie won’t quite accept he is on Dune with the rest of us thirsty zealots, and still longs to escape to the Duke’s paradise water planet. This podcast represents that part of us. The obscure Hayano book comes up a bit later, while the podcast episode itself continues some of the resentfully meandering, watery narration that can be so effective when kept somewhat in check. When it becomes completely unmoored or worse, consumed with itself, as in Billy’s season seven, you become one of Hayano’s faces. Creation is the escape from man’s post-conscious dilemma, but not if you are casting mirrors.

A muted pod around Thanksgiving 2024 leads with a nice reflection that is a bit drowned in a mildly depressive tone: more water. The real focus, however, is a big hand where we mostly need to call river. While the highlights of this podcast are not its strategy, to ignore that part would be a mistake. Winning players have a certain touch, even a delicate touch, where they demonstrate their internalized understanding of probabilities. Charlie does this with the QThh hand on the river, where he makes a great and sensitive fold. However, in the AA hand, the same sensitivity seems forced and less logical. It is likely a call combinatorically and strategically, as the trap is even beating value. Then, the story of how the other guy had it, all too conveniently. We believe what we want to believe, but as poker players, we must trust ourselves or perish. This paradox is a real concern for the serious player. The next pod features an unexpected snap back to rigorousness as Charlie more seriously readdresses a constant concern for the true live pro: whether the games are public or private. Well worth a listen, and the essay speaks for itself. One note is that it is a dodge of an argument to say “I have the right to play with whom I want.” You can never entirely control this, and poker the game in fact exemplifies dealing with difference, not dodging it. Although Charlie does not challenge this argument because he seems taken, interestingly, with the important “right of association,” he does makes it clearer than ever why private games feature their own interior penalties in exchange for personal comfort. The exterior penalty – the health of the poker community – is more at stake than ever, Charlie stresses. (It’s worth, by the way, considering what the casinos and cardrooms are doing wrong, not just looking at player trends. The farm is a slaughterhouse but also an ecosystem.) Another interesting point Charlie raises is the idea that the poker boom only occurred because people thought the games could be free from cheating. In any case, as Thomas Sowell emphasizes, all societal choices involve tradeoffs rather than solutions. The good news which Charlie needs to hear is that the balance of private and public games will likely continue to shift and reshift. The inevitable spectacular or brutal crime in the L.A. home game scene, including the consequences of new cheating and monetary tools, will likely shuffle the herd back into the public pen, and so worried Farmer Charlie may yet grow fat again.

2025 starts off with a couple movie reviews. Charlie goes deeply into Lucky You but merely bounces off Mississippi Grind. Why is this? Probably style above all, as these two movies are so different in feel despite what might look similar on paper. Hero movies like Lucky You or Rounders are for the suburbs, whereas MG barrels along toward its natural catastrophe only to be rescued by a terrible and rewritten ending, recalling Pushing Tin its pure destruction of the previously strong eighty minutes. In some sense, all poor things are merely incomplete things: the mystics are probably right. God may not exist, in other words, but we are working to fix that.

A rather beautiful episode comes up mid-Feb when Charlie gives a revisionist look back at 2m2m, then gets more personal than usual about the game. He humbly gives into the real frustration that poker should elicit both on the table and on the pod: this is a winning balance of tone and narrative. Still, while losing undeniably hurts, no one seems to understand its related subject variance. The grind is real and the only thing to do is to get better, because edge literally shifts the ground. Your historical win rate, in other words, is not really your win rate, as all comparisons and expectations from a particular cloud of results have little to do with your new situation. Roger Federer did not worry about his average win, he worried about being the best version of himself at any one time because then the trophy might really be his. Charlie should therefore focus on truly exploiting 5/5 rather than being embarrassed at playing it. He forgets that the 5/5 players want to play with him and measure themselves against him and learn from him; not every moment in the game is mercenary or miserable. Moreover, we hone our craft best not on the big stage but the small one; a true player therefore has no particular stake, and ideally, no particular game – he is merely Alain Delon waiting on his bed, a Samourai, ready for whatever task he is called to carry out for his wage.

In March, however, when his show really is on the other foot and Charlie plays very small, he doesn’t sound happy nor is he particularly interested in the games. He is incredulous at the play in a one-three game and feels out of place at one of those manufactured MUGs for fans of the game, because without saying it, he realizes he is not a fan of the game’s fans or their ritual losing. What he is, is a creature of his current stake, and that makes sense for someone putting food on the table. The lion has no use for the opinion of sheep, etc. The true low stakes are all amateurs painfully enacting a sport of which he is a master, so it can only irritate. Perhaps when he is older and takes more interest in the cubs, he will find more humor in that mastery and its lack, but for now he is glad to be back on the plain and out of the bogs. Guilty as usual for his own ethic, he deposits the win with charity for the first worlders who are rebuilding paradise and Panera Breads. Charlie is the strangest lion in the jungle. Next, the review of poker media continues with the Matusow doc, helped by Seattle player and aspiring poker blogger David Chen. One strange thing comes up, as Chen believes “poker is about hunger” but clearly poker is not about hunger – hunger is a biological process that can be satisfied and those who are biologically suspect make themselves ill through overconsumption. Poker’s itch is never actually so scratched and winning is not overconsumption but a victory of results if not strategy, so poker is clearly about something other than hunger. In fact, the lack of metaphorical hunger, the lack of ambition, so to speak, is a great problem for the average shitreg, who literally degenerates into staking, borrowing, stealing and worse as he slowly realizes his true win rate: zero. If Matusow, to return to the them, can win now, after everything, despite everything and above all, despite himself, it speaks to his ability. In any case, the good news is that this remains one of the few podcasts for those seeking meaning within the game, and is a bi-weekly relief.

The grieving process of exiting a good time in poker is first depression, then acceptance, and then, trying a new game. Usually this is followed by going back to the old game. Charlie is apparently at step three or maybe four. On the regular, this game is PLO; if you are truly committed it means learning all the games and ascending to poker, not NL, mastery. PLO, on the other hand, is a hold’em game and an easy adjustment if you are good at NL (of course, if you are secretly bad at NL, PLO is a major challenge). Charlie calls these bad regs “preflop charts in a trenchcoat” which is of course descriptive enough, but it’s not prescriptive or even proscriptive. Really, poker is a about a theory of the game, one that revolves around denial, which is simultaneously nuts and air – at heart, which is to say equilibrium, there is no difference in a bluff or a value bet. A mature understanding of poker involves the realization that all streets in poker work on the same principle, which, to return to the point, is a no-go for mere chart copiers. The problem in moving on to other games like PLO is that the map is not the territory, and getting a feel for the play and detail will take time. Never give up, if you are trying a new game – you will get it eventually, as all our games are not only similar but essentially simple. (Triple Draw, lowball, and Drawmaha variants are key to breaking into the limit scene, and they are challenging. Everyone grasps Stud more easily as it is an intuitive and information-rich game.) Even better, PLO is still good somehow. Like socialism or personal jetpacks, PLO is always the game of a future we never seem to get to, no matter what our cartoon betters tell us.

The next episode is a little quiet as Charlie reflects modestly on live versus online, but it gives me the moment to realize he never talks about his commentary on Hustler. Clearly this is for a reason, but it would be interesting to hear about his thoughts on watching and redeeming incredibly rich clowns throw money at each other, especially while feeling the ongoing pinch of a mid-career results trail-off. As with Sessions, Dan Arfin’s new pod, or other good poker material, the story is often not the story. It should be noted that here in the midst of the poker talking heads worrying over poker content’s effect on the poker industry, the good listener knows everything is relevant and so everything missing is, in fact, missed.

In May 2025 we get a promised review of The Card Counter. This is the first large account media platform to say anything intelligent about Schrader’s film other than the already-involved Stapes. Upon release, the movie was appreciated by film lovers but knee-jerk cast aside by the more culturally illiterate voices of the poker community – yes, the same people who beg for content which goes past the felt. (They did this with Dead Money, too.) While Charlie’s restrained sentiments echo my own review, I am still stuck with the bad taste of the bad taste demonstrated by my fellow poker players at the time. I will never get over sitting in a bar with several of the most famous, beloved poker celebrities in the world and listening to their smallminded, dysfunctional opinions on the movie. Schrader, who wrote the breakthrough Taxi Driver and the operatic Raging Bull, one of the most moving and challenging films of all time, is still alive, and yet like a family member you didn’t visit, will be tragically gone soon enough. My fellow poker players, who drop the stub so, so often, are somewhat bailed out by at least this podcaster recognizing reality when he sees it. Later in the month, a review of the Winamax show “Inside the Mind of Pro,” as well as some interesting strategy hands.

Good essay on poker culture and the perception of it in June 2025, wherein Charlie sees the divide between bourgeois tournament/vlog culture/social media engagers versus the shadier and more desperate historical heart of the game. These observations are sandwiched by a negative review of The Grand, which I vaguely remember as being amusing but unimportant; Werner Herzog as a disturbing math player caricature is the sole image it impressed upon me. This movie was mere satire, and as Charlie implies, you must love your subject, love your characters, to create the true vision. Or more simply put, people of The Grand didn’t know poker the way Brian K. knew poker. Charlie seems to think some of the present social media types could create meaningful poker content, and this might indeed be on the overlap in art and popularity, that cultural square where a poker PR war could be waged, but does he not address the more essential question: why? Are we trying to make things even bigger and more stale? Are there enough entrants for the Colossus? Or are we looking for something that tells us about ourselves? Cringe, which is what most of today’s “content” (read: charming vacuity) creators deal in, is fine in its place. Cringe is noticeable and amusing, it is the balloon at the party. Cringe is so important that it scales and falsifies itself: Marle, who is much more immersed in the game, is far more interesting than Caitlin or the other try-hard “influencers,” but Caitlin can grab the Hollywood bag just as easily, I’d guess, because what she does well is cringe and thus immediately more graspable to the public and the people who feed the public. All of this is to say, The Grand, it would seem, is just some attempted cringe of the era. The problem is that poker is in truth a soft hustle, a smile below the dead eyes. Cringe does not really, therefore, display the heart of poker that well, even if we did have Teddy KGB. Gambling itself is too dangerous; this is one reason we prefer to neuter it via the tournament vehicle; the tensions of the game are resolved in a Kierkegaardian sense by marrying gambling to fitness and positivity and social media engagement culture. Perhaps many (poker) movies are this, odes to their public perception rather than exposures of their deeper vessels and hardened veins. The wild west of Mississippi Grind or the dark rooms of The Card Counter just don’t work in a market that demands a strong taste of cringe, yet who knows who is quietly influenced by them? California Split has probably created as many players as Rounders, but because it is less cringey it is left out of the discussion.  To move beyond cringe is what is being silently asked by those who are immersed in the game, but this is a task far beyond the lightweights. Koppelman has demonstrated, time and again, and in spite of much silliness, that he has a vision of humanity and a light enough touch to appeal to the public square; thus we venerate him from all sides. Not sure Greg Goes All In really does or should, as funny as he and all fluffer-class artists are and as much as the real show needs them. Next pod Charlie carries on the thought process, addressing the deeper issue. However, it is hard for me to initially react, as he mentions the beauty of the game and the word completely distracts me. Beauty and its creation have obsessed me for a few months now – if the game is indeed beautiful, it is all we really need to know. Depression in poker often revolves around a lack of purpose, which is to say, something that can be beautiful or perhaps is a source of it. He closes with some attractive run-good this episode, too. The deep downswing which so affected him and changed the podcast for the better seems completely in the past. Interestingly, there is not much reaction to his take on this pod. People don’t like hearing things they don’t agree with, nor do they like him winning too much. It takes a certain optimism to wish others well, and optimism beyond mere enthusiasm requires discipline. A quiet week at the microphone and beyond the walls.

July finds Charlie in the heart of American gambling, Las Vegas, and it seems to have inspired him because we get two essays instead of one.  The first one strikes a bit of an odd note, not because of Charlie’s conclusions but because it is odd that anyone would ask specifically him about the final two collusion thing. If you are a listening listener, you would know tournament culture is not his jam. What is in the head of one’s listeners and readers? Charlie sees through much of the fuss and almost touches upon the delicate question the angry pool has dodged in its eagerness to brush everything under the rug: why does the WSOP have its anti-deal posture and is it still relevant what the television public thinks of these optics? It is no longer the ESPN years. Nevertheless. The second one is more important, as he addresses The Downswing with satisfying complexity. Having passed through this period, what does it mean for his future? What does it mean for players who both survive dark variance and emerge without the neuropathy it seems to give other pros with worse ideas on swings?

July brings Charlie to LV, where like Peter Whimsey in Scotland, he does not seem to belong on the surface but does fine anyway. It’s really more about tournaments. His attitude toward the WSOP and backing itself underscores the social pressure aspect of tournaments, which are not really a rational game structure, not at heart. Yes, pros want the big prize, but they rarely ask themselves, why this way? Does the math add up? We know it doesn’t, so what is the real story? Denial and passion, I suppose: the usual human one. Gambling is an essential part of society, as much as we try to repress the idea of godless variance. Tax talk underlines this as well.

An extra week gives Charlie time to deliver on some classic radioshow stuff, used to underscore his take on one of poker’s classic themes: time and boredom. Full ring poker delivers either a mismatch of action to attention or lots of pleasant down time, depending on what you like. Charlie uses the contemporary analogy of the non-player-character to describe how one is constantly on the sidelines of the action. However, most jobs and sports and activities are like this. He and others are weighed down by being individuals first and not team players first. Most of us like football or tennis and not both or in different ways. We also are binary in our personas – I may need time with the friends or the family or the band or the drunks to integrate myself, then go on to be the samourai that I am. What we are talking about is the organization of personality, an organization which is secret and only balefully pursued by sociologist, writers, and other bottom-rung life scientists. The fretting over our time – expressed in this podcast in overt ways but also in the subplot of constantly trying new games that we all know will not work out – is probably the most important theme in poker aside from gambling itself. No doubt this episode (august 2025) will hit home with many. August ends with an unusual episode where Charlie seems to be substituting for himself. He trots out some old notes on private games, as if Covid was on his mind: everything is slow post-WSOP. First though, he addresses Adam Hendrix’s strange decision to use his fifteen minutes of WSOP fame to criticize some novelty tournament. Given that all tournaments are novelties, it’s all pretty silly. Bring on the tournaments for midgets: the tournament itself is the midget game of poker, blowing up in popularity because the regular game has become both hard and unfriendly. The comments on private games, however seemingly out of podcast sequence, are interesting. Does rake actually kill games? It’s all relative to the influx of money. Private games can take outrageous rake but it only matters if the incoming cash was limited in the first place; poker is a secondary market, we must remember, an entertainment. Choosing to play big is equivalent to choosing to play the novelty games. Mason himself argues too heavily about rake – getting people to even play first is more important. Rake is also, appropriately, a tariff, and the commerce can sustain and does sustain surprising amounts of interference. The influx itself is the real question: novelties within the game generally affect us more than rake. Bomb pots and side games are upticks in cost. The good news is not that whales can go broke, but that private operators can drive traffic back to us more stolid public players and venues. The idea that private games and stream games are pushing study is a fresh thought. The skill on stream games is opaque; I notice quite a bit of skill within illusion. On the other hand, most of the games are just silly and skill itself is not as distributed as it might seem. The announcers themselves especially don’t seem to understand stacks very well, yet these private/steam overlap games have the deepest stacks. We’ll just take Charlie’s word that Psycho Mike really is a secret crusher and not just another bankroll playing out its inherent risk reward. Without Garrett the Cat, we zone out to the scurrying mice, losing interest month by month. The streams, just like the private games, can play themselves out, too. All is economics.

September starts out with a satisfaction/dissatisfaction theme, where Charlie plays different games, smaller stakes, tournaments and basically whatever is around. He sounds fine with it; prior existential problems are gone for now. Some of this is variance. Tournaments are variance, the main problem here being that our host does not play enough of them to find the spots and the run-good one needs. In the past he would be distressed over his tournament die rolling failures, but today he is more attuned to reality. He dismisses Runner Runner vigorously. Koppelman is not taken to task, probably thanks to Charlie’s rare breezy mood. In the second episode, Charlie bumps into the profundity of certain political thought in the course of a “sweepscoin” discussion. He wants a world where gambling is regulated while still playing freely; this is a common strain of thought, yet more repressive voices are in crescendo at present. (He also says he prefers to speak on subjects above laws in subject matter, yet the law touches on our greatest profundities.) These are both contradictions the podcast and other podcasts rarely confront, as the injunction to be apolitical is an ironic, uncomfortable, and unwritten legis of poker. Gambling is an essential human activity, as dangerous as sex, and so is constantly under strange and inconsistent applications of law. The freedom to give yourself away, financially or sexually, is deeply disturbing to the bourgeois state, and so “visions of society that include less gambling” dance in the mind of many as surely as other, even more illiberal visions. The problem being, you cannot simultaneously want to be regulated and also want the greatest freedom. This is the tension and constant question Plato and Aristotle worked with, as well as one the founders of the continuing American revolution questioned: what is fair, what is best in our body politic? As far as the tribals go, they are a convenient foil, as much as a socialist state is the foil for a free-market state or the royal state is for the democratic state. The tribals outmaneuver the state governments not because they are powerful but because we have this wishy-washy vision of allowing a little gambling while being just a little pregnant and just a little inebriated. So maybe we’re unlucky that our weak institutions allow themselves to be pushed around by the tribes, but we often forget that we are lucky to have the opportunity to use the tribal position to better define our policies. This opportunity has gone unseized and could become the focus of a strong poker propagandist.

October 2025 brings another strong review episode (and one with style), but Charlie is running out of poker movie material. He can expand to Las Vegas and gambling movies – Hard Eight is great and timely choice. I don’t comment much about his strategy/hand recap section, but it strikes me this time around how simple and good his presentation has become. I’d imagine it’s not just experience but the commentary work, forcing him to zero in on what is essential. Later this month, Charlie digs up The Noble Hustle by one of contemporary journalism’s great stylists, Colson Whitehead. I, like many, had forgotten this quick read. I remember Whitehead’s essential insincerity, his fake “anhedonia,” but also his unique (and so) cool style. One shudders – fulfill your destiny, live out your promise or be an infamous flake, whether you are a writer or a poker player or a vlogger or whatever. On a related note, as I listen to this pod on the road, it seems like this review and the trend of his reviews have their own form of light, Colson W. touch. Maybe these short essays can live outside the podcast, where they get exposure but are simultaneously hidden. Limitations of the form, etc.

Charlie takes on the Chauncey Billups thing with a certain irritation and lack of interest to start November. Perhaps for this reason he allows himself the easy conclusion that players should play in casinos. Correct, of course, but why should they? How can some of them? A half-hearted essay but one merits such fatigue if you are pro-normie poker: our game is connected to the underworld and the wish to cut the family tree in half is futile. The white-collar players, which include me, must simply stay on their side of the tracks – and perhaps more relevantly, live with their choice. It’s Limon who really has stuff to say on this matter, as he has the mind and bookie-brain instinct for it. Charlie is interested in poker culture but is not a gambler or a degenerate. This line is a serious one that defines many of us with lives in poker and limits the areas of our social investigations. All movies deserve better than most critics offer; a movie is total work in the Wagnerian sense and we dismiss these efforts with an almost absurd incuriosity. Charlie wrestles with this a bit in reviewing Ballad of a Small Player, the straight-to-Netflix film by Edward Berger. The first quality of a movie is that it should be visually interesting given the essence of cinema, and once we grant Berger’s triumph on that matter, we can start to wonder why Ballad doesn’t quite grab the viewer. While I may need a better space than this ongoing podcast journal to explain the movie, let’s merely note that quite a bit is going on and the podcaster gives it all a second chance. Most, if not all work, deserves at least that. How Charlie applies this morality of the viewer is important.

Next, we hear about AI and “the” documentary everyone, especially Dustin, was excited about. AI is a temptation to go on about, but really it is very simple: it is a mimicry of intelligence which can successfully serve limited ends. I don’t want to waste time on it, and apparently Charlie doesn’t want to, either. The public facing side of AI is a great present hobgoblin and stalking horse of midwits and grifters, a real estate bubble of hangers-on and ugliness enthusiasts; the real AI is more sagely and quietly being employed to create the weapons and systems of society’s future. I can’t agree that there is some holy morality broken in whatever claptrap DA serves up to us; a few AI tweaks of the dialogue strike me as critical as the purity of a pop star’s vocals. Imagining the games and situations and people that hustler extraordinaire Alan Keating spends time with should color his objections just a tad: what are we really doing here? Further, as in the Feast for Crows Illustrated Edition scandal, the more important aspect is the stunning poverty of the AI art, not the nature or ethics of it. More importantly, Charlie discusses what he wants in poker stories and art, and it seems like no coincidence that the less measured vegasite known as Blockhead was tearing into some big news about a Las Vegas television show. Charlie connects the nature of tournaments to the authenticity Blockhead is so adamant about: the public lie of poker to the reality. Yet there is authenticity at the level of Billions, too – is it not better to look for greatness in the world than rule it out? Hinting that Scorsese is a rube and a fake stinks of resentment. I know all about the misery of the real Vegas, of the AIDS and the crime and the broken people, yet a full menu of that authenticity would only bring out different critics. To rephrase Voltaire, I suppose if we can’t have the internal quality I look for, we maybe can have the honesty Charlie and Blockhead seem to want. Charlie closes on the virtues of the Main Event as potential poker Media, but something about this strikes me as odd and will need returning to. This month’s second pod is first person reportage about the ongoing worsening of the games. Notes that matter include Charlie emphasizing how he views his pod firstly as a journal. The solution to bad games is partially being addressed by the market. The upswing in public/private games such as the ones popping up all over the Vegas casinos is creating action that wouldn’t otherwise be there on a Tuesday afternoon. If L.A. is behind on this, it’s because of all the private games. Yet with a good percentage of players increasingly fearful of unregulated tables, it seems incumbent upon the players to organize fun games. In other words, Charlie Tuesdays with the Squid Game or whatever is just a matter of will.

The new year begins modestly, with the subject of exploits but not in the general sense. Inevitably, every good player goes through cycles of strategy, and today we listen to Charlie getting into very specific player dependent reactions. The second pod continues with this theme, along with a certain sparseness of language that accompanies the usual sense of humility and fairness that the host focuses on. If things are changing in 2026 for Charlie, they are happening below the surface.

February 2026 is a weird month in Thirdmanland. The first episode features a forgettable epistle floating some bland observations on randomness, almost as if it were a quiet parody of the player pool. In the second drop of the month, Charlie again touches on parody when he imitates the squeaking of one of the regs, then cleverly reuses it to enhance a description of his own possible misplay. It’s worth noting how his brain trust thinks in generalities, as we all must. A small bet should be raised but may face a three bet, whereas the catch all bet is seen to be the most harmless of the two possible options which the nut flush should raise. Yet what is most dangerous when all sizes are chosen? It’s not really clear if you consider the leveling power and variegated nature of using the linear sizing. The artistic use of the squeaking was fun because he uses such effects rarely. Yet that is not really the point of the podcast either, not in the end. Instead, there is a certain boredom or irritative element that Charlie is fighting. The aggravating use of the drop is suggestive of many interesting things because art is always the response to an existential crisis, no matter how trivial it might seem on the surface. Boredom is everywhere.

New episode touches on the important CA gaming changes. Unlike the BBB tax law disaster, what is going to happen with this one is not so clear. Limon takes a more opportunistic view, for instance. Further, the Gardena mayor claims to have foreseen the changes and is fine with them. Charlie takes the alarmist view, as he should. Poker is going to be affected and badly. There are several countervailing forces in gambling, both pro and against, and the American scene is overall getting confusing. Games are good enough all over but California losing most of its public poker would be a sea change. Charlie himself will be forced to play in private games, most likely, not something he is currently fond of. On a technical note, it sounds almost like Charlie is doing another sound experiment, recording his phrases separately, as if there are two of him. Maybe he just can’t speak into the mic consistently, but the impression is poker worry squared. March’s second episode covers Deal, which sounds fun and stupid. The more I think about poker and art, the game simply can’t take center stage much. It’s a game, and movies, if not something more comprehensive, must touch on the human experience authentically. Forcing it is, of course, Hollywood’s motto. It’s hard to accept that even the dreck audiences mostly choose needs to be authentic dreck. Rounders is authentically stupid in many ways: think of why young men admire Mike McD. The other question I have is, why didn’t Dead Money do better? Hollywood didn’t really touch this one, so what is the excuse? We don’t remember the hero much, not even his name. Is every movie really so Jungian? Is the problem that actually poker is boring and the exceptions are astounding? Anyway, I really want to know because I feel like it was a good enough movie and that I could have been a part of a similar financial disappointment.

On cue, Charlie continues to develop the art of his podcast on April Fool’s with a perfect setup and conclusion. At one point he says he cares about poker’s current legal travails, but I wonder if he means that he tries to care. Underneath all the commentary, after all, is the player and the man, who can simultaneously need his income while tiring of his labors. Lee Jones somehow resurfaces in the next pod. While I will never get the stinking taste of one of his articles out of my memory, he seems to do okay here in interviewing Charlie and creating a subject for the episode. Charlie spends some time on bomb pots, including a noted mistake in Jason Bell’s vlog. Of course, all novelties create headaches: good dealers handle them, bad dealers don’t. People, meaning dealers, tend to think they are owed a living, but if anyone should know that is not true, it’s the poker player. Bombing at your job in front of your clients is a specialty of a certain type of personality. Gambling is at the forefront of risk, so those who staff it incur risks, too.

May begins lightly and impersonally with some news follow-ups, including the mention of what looks like a candidate for the worst poker movie ever created. It’s worth noting that if such dreck can find financial support, there is room for good stuff, too; maybe Blockhead, who Charlie enjoys, can cease his endless whining about other writers and live up to his now wearisome posturing. As for L.A. card club rules, more time needs to pass. In any case, Charlie therefore spends a slightly longer time on a session review. I’m struck by one hand where he feels he overplayed top trips versus a good player. He seems too hard on himself, at the simplest level. However, on a more interesting one, the hand demonstrates just how hard it is to really know what is going on at all times. Seeing hands like J3 show up could mean the shove range is wider, not tighter. The small bet with the right hands is surely the right play; why not here? Because of the bad result. This hearkens back to the dark forest podcast, one of Thirdman’s classic episodes.

As the WSOP starts, we are told of what sounds like a pretty good poker movie, The Adults or something like that. Looking forward.  Charlie recounts a bad session at meaningful stakes. He seems to play the hands reasonably except for the spades fold, which, whether you are a human or a robot, you simply have to be able to stack off here. The listener focuses on this because of his opening comments on what a poker player is and what the life is really like. We simply can’t be right every time, and Mike McD is, as Charlie says, a fucking fish. Our errors in one spot are our expertise in another. What we get instead of nuance from the talking heads is mostly misinformation or outright myths its Moneymaker, Mike McD or Stu Unger. Forget about it, it’s just Chinatown. Later in June, Charlie debates tournament players versus cash players. There’s not much intrigue in these apples and oranges, but we might note the oddity that tournament players rely both on more luck and perhaps more skill, especially in the endgame which cash does not experience so literally. The figurative endgame of cash is far more compelling: this is the skill of survival and moving up and not finding interest death or bankroll death. A cash player never wants to see the finish line.

The July heat brings us an episode on aggression, which probably could have gone many ways. The important thing is the conclusion, because we know moderated aggression is how we last in poker. In the short term, aggression is just gambling and so glorifies the profits from positive variance while burying all the players whose results went the other way: were they not aggressive? Usually all too much. Of course, in the end, poker has little to do with aggression, other than it being merely one knob many players need to constantly adjust. Poker, above all, is a game of prices. There are many other things we don’t discuss: the paradigm of the game itself, for instance is overlooked in almost all training material, leaving the student constantly lost, like the acolyte of an alchemist. The most important things are always hidden in plain sight. The next episode is an introspective on personal change and life choices. That means it is also a thunderbolt of coincidence, as I am making big changes. I too revisit my life whenever travelling, the only real difference being I don’t really take vacations; this must mean something. In any case, another great episode in a long series of strong audio essays. This is really the best poker podcast but I can’t really make it number one for obvious style and social reasons.

August brings a bit of contrarianism on bad beat stories. Charlie and his guest pitch the healing power of small groups under the flag of beat stories. Well, poker moved into little silos around the time of Covid, so this only makes sense when seen in context. Out of context, bad beat stories are just emotional dumps on the people around you. Many of us take pride in our restraint. It matters not: this episode was a bit of a bait and switch, as Sandor and Charlie did not actually pitch sharing bad beats with the captive audience you call opponents. The real highlight was not the bad beat idea, but Sandor’s sage takes on the poker life. The second episode takes on the public game culture, as in preserving it. While a good pitch for casino poker managers to do their jobs, we know from Mason Malmuth’s Cardrooms book that they basically do not. Mason is big on micromanaging the ecosystem carefully and would agree with Charlie’s proposal. Yet the reality is that the managers tend to respond to the local market; look at changes to LV poker on a yearly, surprisingly sensitive basis. This is probably because they understand poker as an amenity to their overall casino market share rather than merely a table-by-table measurement. In other words, we get what the players, even on an individual basis, want, rather than some planned utopia, because these better managers are afraid players will not go to the pits and the restaurant, not because of losing their tiny poker rake production. We can go one step further and say, in 2026 especially, that we get what the players create; perhaps the new Hard Rock or some future endeavor will provide a more healthy, sterner model. Meanwhile, the will to create a private game is rewarded, even if the alignment is out of step and the ecosystem and casino profit is reduced. We will destroy our games because they are ours to do so, a la Frank Herbert. In some wider sense, I want to say this relates to the poker boom itself, which players fantasize about in two senses, in both how it happened and in recreating it. The unpleasant truth is that saving the game or growing the game in some geometric rate is a three-body problem, an anomaly in action, meaning the next big thing is impossible to predict or massage into existence. Further, our preferred small changes tend to encourage what we are: a thousand Charlies in your room is no solution, not even for Charlie. We fly by dodging the earth, the comic author wrote.

The first pod in September dredges up a successful but mostly boring documentary on black Friday. I remember how it did not comment on the Rounders grill; that seemed to say it all. I’m not in the mood to watch it again and find its likely hidden value, but this callback does both emphasize how much poker content is out there and yet how little. Watching poker blogs and being subject to “creators” has helped me focus on better things. Presumably others feel the same, even if they are the minority or can’t put their finger on the itch for better work.

The latest blends poker books and approaches to the game, but most importantly brings up one of poker’s finest yet often ignored literary efforts, “Shut Up and Deal.” Writing is the most distilling of the arts; it is freeze-dried meaning and must be hydrated by the imagination of the reader. Rounders and all the moving pictures supply the imagination, like a professional chef obviating our senses with butter and technique. Poker’s “creator” class imitates this with retail technology. These passive experiences thrill the consumer, and his consumption becomes his expertise. It is not likely that Jesse May or really any poker writer can compete with this aspect of what DFW called the “Entertainment.” The question is, does it matter? On a small note, Charlie mentions Bernhard’s The Loser, one of the most fun and compelling and yet dark novels ever – to hear its title named in the heart of poker means we are not entirely slaves to the Entertainment, and nor should we or need be. Aren’t we the independent ones? Unfortunately, Mateos know this score and Charlie highlights it. It may be the case, however, that we must pass through poker in the Limon sense, and that we who are in it are briefly imprisoned by our own hustle. Which brings me to Garrett’s book, which I have avoided because it is likely AI-polished and full of emotional gibberish and fake analysis. But if the radio host is on it, I suppose we all must: this is how monoculture used to work, and poker is indeed a monoculture.

The next episode is more notable for what Charlie skips: scandal at the HCL. Instead, we get a long ramble on variance which all adds up to exactly what he said he didn’t want to say: a realistic pro watches his bankroll. Some people are against the filibuster, but I tend to want to support these traditional practices.

Rating: AQs

Some themes are too predictable and are a bit of a waste of time: yes, it turns out tremendous volume and commitment to improving at a thing somehow works. Odd and yes, almost mechanical. At other times, the hosts explore actual concepts and touch on ideas that might benefit serious players. Sound output is too low. [August 2022] Three-hour podcasts better have some interesting questions and answers; some episodes are a real struggle for the hosts and the listener. Fortunately, the MOP crew uses an index, at least for their YouTube vids; I don’t see any on Spotify. Much like Joey’s shows, we’re carried in some spots very thinly and many people just can’t possibly have time for so much filler. Of course, having an actual poker genius on the show like Uri Peleg on makes up for a lot.  The hosts rise to the occasion in a podcast full of insights by letting Uri talk – a strength for Rene and Adam. This one skill alone can make a podcast.

So it’s possible this is secretly one of the best interview podcasts on the high-level poker scene ever, and the names involved suggest it, but few will be awake to realize it, and this is probably reflected in the small listenership – small even for poker standards. They have competitors for sure. Thinking Poker does more strategy, just as Runchuks did before disappearing; MOP is one step removed from the tables. Henry Kilbane tries for the same young grinder demographic, but he suffers from similar defects while producing even less content.  Of course, burying the secrets to success is smart, in a way, but I doubt it is what they are aiming for by dragging out the conversation for half a productive day. Bumptious and confident Rene in his stream videos actually thanks his opponents after they lose a hand to him, one of the most odious behaviors in poker; it’s hard to just like this type purely as host or person; he’s a happy bro, perhaps, and looks like he eats well, works out, recycles, doesn’t worry about much, and his family loves him, but he clearly struggles to put himself in his opponents’ or his audiences’ shoes. Munez episode is full of interesting high stakes gossip and general recommendations but is so slow it is nearly unlistenable; bear in mind we’re hearing from one of the world’s top competitors. He “analyzed” Stefan’s game “five times” – somehow the hosts don’t even ask what this means. Did he look at a hand? Every hand? What? Sim vs datasets? No answer. Maybe I didn’t even listen closely enough – hours and hours of mostly light content makes for a low concentration level. So, lots of potential, remains: these guys know poker and have the access to make it happen. [11/2022] Trying to get through the latest is just impossible. I’d like to move this one up to the Top Ten, but the approach is just brutal. [1/23] Strong finish to Umadbro episode after a mere eighty minutes of poorly done biography. JFC. [7/2023] So many important names, and a little more method to the madness of late.

5/24 Latest podcast with “european” is a standout. A lot of mental game stuff in this pod but it’s a little deeper than that, more about winning as a mindset, a bro thing, a club to aspire to. Adam and Rene, made up as if on a date, are here to help you shine. [8/24] Alex Theologis interview seems dense with good questions, as does the following interview. Less dithering overall, this has become one of the best podcasts.

12/25 Checking in after a while. Remains topical and important for the industry. Still tend to get caught up in biographical errata. The stories are all the same, and we need to hear the host’s more interesting questions on how to win in the toughest games in the world.

Rating: TT

[8/2/20] DGAF is carrying on with podcasting despite losing his basic premise, coverage of the live grind, through musings and interviews. [8/2021] Back on the grind all year, the struggle is palpable but he has moved up to bigger games, yet without a bankroll. On one night, he’s even back to some of the same late night, high-stakes short-handed bloodbaths; on the next, he’s back in “red-chip” hell. Now, at the end of his “Save the Princess” tour of duty, it’s clear all his contradictions and self-soothing and problems are about to collide, as he plans to play more and bigger even as his love of the game diminishes, and time runs out on everything.

[2022] Just a few weeks into the season, it seems Billy needs a vacation. The good news is that his story remains enjoyable, and his presentation continues to improve with each season; the gimmick of the STP is over, though and the bluff long since called. The new “gangster returns” theme for this charismatic and colicky poker baby on perpetual tilt is a bit comical but probably plays well to the home crowd. [3/2022] Billy has now had a few key breakthroughs, not exactly all the money he thought would change everything, but better digs, a part-time job, and a casino home full of friendlies at the Hustler. The Las Vegas red chip hell chapter is over – very long in coming and with some lessons still unabsorbed. He sounds… well, good. It’s nice to hear. However, all the talk and ego and endurance get put to the test now, as Billy plays under the lights for the first time and hosts games: no more hiding, in the wee gamblers’ hours or in all the words. Sometimes, you don’t get to not know. [5/2022] Things have taken a turn for the strange. Being involved in the high stakes LA scene is a bit like being invited to the Playboy Mansion; it’s hard to screw up but you can easily forget reality. Constant theme of being tired is nightmarish and good storytelling; news of his special chat group as Billy becomes more and more inaccessible adds a distinct dystopian note to his sandcastle society. Is success around the corner or a massive stumble? Either way, this is what he wanted. [6/2022] Growing pains as he lands in the berry patch of a forced action game but some patrons are struggling with the now less personal touch; he notes a lack of subscriber growth which I think is predictable but will ultimately bring him significant gains once he finds new footing. Billy continuously, now almost bizarrely tells us he might give up the podcast if he doesn’t make his fundraising goal, but it’s a little stale: you only get to use that trick so many times and of course that is the last thing that will happen; he always was a bluffer and the podcast changed his life. Next, the dog story and his obvious exhaustion, on public view in the Hustler games, is good listening.

As July 2022 closes, a theme of truth versus reality and what the story really is has re-emerged, no doubt because for the first time, success seems imminent, although I’m not personally so sure. Nevertheless, it’s a watershed year. There are several subplots at present, one being a race between Billy’s health and his opportunity to quickly pay down the debt thanks to the stars aligning on the Hustler front. He has headaches, clearly from overwork and lack of sleep; at one point I see him on stream and he looks absolutely fraught; his health clearly is in actual peril but he reports mitigating it lightly with exercise and some more delegation. Long nights, alcohol, and no sleep are a familiar path for the live grinder but we are all getting old, alas. He seems obsessed with the idea that admitting he is tired is bad storytelling or that his audience doesn’t want to hear it; of course it is the opposite, in a curious misread and the podcast remains as good as ever. Billy wisely sells action but pitches it (sometimes resentfully) as a favor to everyone that was unnecessary to him; it’s an interesting half-truth. In fact, DGAF is insistent, almost adamant that nearly everything he does is for somebody else; the strain between his self-image and his goals is part of the struggle. The drama is changing, in other words, just like the stakes.

Looking to the future, Billy’s fate is increasingly tied to the growth of the Hustler, and more drama on this front is inevitable. He knows the score and is working hard to make his Monday game indispensable. His recurring cultural wisdom strikes the observer, as he continues to hit the right notes again and again. He is a natural marketer and lives up to his billing as sensitive to all sorts of things. Some people see the wins and think the struggle is all over, forgetting, among other things, that our hero is capable of incredible losses and even seems to will them on occasion. The podcast of late even contains hints he is, in fact, aware that the old patterns of profligacy are returning (they have been for a long time). It’s all part of the growing pains and the new equilibrium of his big steps forward. Overall, Billy is as or more qualified than anyone to negotiate west coast culture and poker, with all its enforced laxness and ideological consumerism: Hollywood sells more than just Californication, and this is his scene, “judgments” or no.

So, Sessions continues to be a strong pod, one of few that really matter, but now more complex. Some things still drag the pod from really taking off nationally: above all, Billy is repetitive, and the listener sometimes needs to skip through familiar stories. The sound drops, which Billy plainly adores, and which you’d probably have to pry out of his dead hands, continue. I notice the baby sound has some interesting interior meaning for him as the trolls and fanboys and traitors complicate his once private-ish life and he retreats ever so slightly into himself to deal with (and alternately rages against) the never-satisfied poker community – including his own. A beer, if not peace, awaits.

On cue, Billy takes a massive loss mid-August. He naturally laments being in make-up but omits that his deal works peculiarly- he’s always in makeup, essentially, as the deal allowed him to pull money once the investors were paid an initial sum, as reported. With this and some feedback surprises, he is, for a few weeks anyway, furious with himself, with his community, with the world; alone, surrounded by people but listening to no one but the hurricane, a low-key Lear of the poker grind. In a later episode, his passion for not being “judged” reaches an apotheosis in yet another rant about how people who make judgements can’t think, while assigning his children the ability to judge him in a kind of traditional patriarchal grandiosity. It’s a peculiar stand, because it’s so normal yet so vociferous. Unfortunately, the world is always making judgements – it’s part and parcel of our essential nature and story. Billy doesn’t like it and is as affected by his supporters’ and detractors’ behaviors as you might imagine. What’s happening at large is that Billy and his audience are adjusting to new roles and new expectations, and change is always painful and disorienting. His supporter pyramid and his contact with others has changed as he really bears down on changing his life and embraces his new roles at Hustler. DGAF’s particular story continues, but also continuously reveals universal and California themes. At bottom, I sense more and more of the podcast is really not only just about his children, but directed at them, his true audience.

Fall of 2022 brings tension and change, as the show becomes about the Garrett/Robbie scandal and Billy’s painful reaction to the public spotlight of these situations. There was always this danger in becoming a stream game persona, he seemed to know it in advance, so it’s not just about cheating. It’s about the intersection of the public and private, and sunglasses only block so much heat and light. As 2022 closes the podcast has taken on a recurrent ranting quality, an ever-so-slightly sour note that is costing a few patrons, because it’s no longer quite the relaxing or distracting podcast its creator imagines it is or was. However, that is the beauty of any story, and the sour note just reminds me of how he loves those over-fermented, juicy beers with his Korean bbq. Instead, Billy is rightly focused more than ever on what really matters: the life story rather than the persona, getting out of debt, being efficient with his time, and, of course, his endless battle with the “nits” within and without. As the year closes Billy grows repetitive; he’s tired and the stupidity of the accusations is wearisome. He needs a vacation desperately. No one believed he would stop in 2023, but we have to go through with the points game comedy. In the same vein, he says he is retired, even as his play is more important than ever: in fact, he has almost reached his goal but is deep in make-up. The stories we tell ourselves and others are a big theme of Sessions and poker itself.

Season six starts out strangely before suddenly becoming extremely strong. At first there is an unclear schedule and a humorously dragging live show from the HCL felt. Billy continues with the wishful story that he is retired when he is not, when it is “the end” when it is not: we all try to control the narrative but usually just fool ourselves and not others. Instead of an ending, this season seems like a mishmash of ideas that will lead to a new beginning: Billy as part of the larger poker industry, from grinder to insider. The mess means his brain trust is not helping him of late, or more sadly, as a result of missing out on a real vacation in 2022, but he is still as charismatic and determined as ever. Health is a real concern: there is no reason to think anyone at his age and with his lifestyle can live like this without consequences. [2/23] Speaking of, January closes on a high with a long episode of communal excess in vegas; the hard living is both necessary to his existence and also worrisome – we can rarely have it all. Then, the next long episode is one of his best ever, ending beautifully in tone, with a slow, quiet landing. The next is just as good: I’m tempted to move Sessions up to number one, which I didn’t think could happen only a month ago. The writing quality, hardened by 2022’s amazing success and equal hardships, has reached a new height. Billy used to have the recurring tic of saying “I don’t know, I don’t know,” but it has left his performances of late, leading to some of his most effecting and effective narrations – the GPI overlooking this podcast is absolutely, unequivocally shameful. On a technical note, the live show sound and delivery improve: new beginnings, not endings.

[4/23] Refocusing on health (and on HCL) after not liking this writing about him and still frothing at all the ridiculous criticism he has endured since J4o, the war’s front has shifted. Billy’s staking crew trouble and infuriate him – money always tears apart families in the end – and so he goes out on his own, taking a loan rather than the corporation’s backing. His live poker chops and the berry patch game he’s ingeniously created immediately deliver for him, but it’s still a struggle, of course: the variance of poker is hard for amateurs and uninformed listeners to truly grasp; and yes, he is still deep in debt. So close, yet so far: freedom for him is almost a mirage, a hoax – in one episode he feels almost at peace with death. The theme of overwork and exhaustion never left the podcast, despite all the great developments, but now he is trapped by work and needs help. Billy’s dedication to his family, girlfriend, and the idea of loyalty itself is pulling him through the difficulties more than his support community, which he feels (correctly) has disintegrated: always drama, but this makes for good story fiber. It seems like even to the end of the Sessions, this will be one of the best poker media projects ever, if not the best one, but one that stays beyond the always blind eyes and deaf ears of the banal poker industry and its endless lionization of grasping vloggers, flailing egirls, and all the three-foot monsters of “content.”

[5/23] Conflict with the patrons as Billy continues to shift his identity to HCL, which he has called a “family” – not something he says any longer about his subscriber community. The toll of the absurd cheating allegations, which only cranks and fools believe, continue to haunt him disproportionally. A more real source of pain is likely the staking issues which have stung both emotionally and fiscally. The story of “coming up” and paying down debt has oddly hit a bit of a lull – what’s next seems critical. Billy has made HCL a success as much as anyone has and his loyalty is ferocious – could he move up somehow or get more into the business? The future shifts a tick. On cue, Yaple taps him for more hosting duty, and the interior story ticks on, somewhat obscured by the HCL talk show personality, new duties, and the Max Pain Monday rollercoaster. His loneliness over the last year in the midst of celebrity is striking and unabated but work is his salvation. Kids, girlfriends, friends and fans can be great, but it’s never easy. The open secret is, you miss even the difficulty and the pain, eventually: enjoy it all while you can.

[7/2023] Major shift in performative attitude marks this year of the pod: the cost of illusions lost and, perhaps, a sort of maturation, as he seems to want to rise above the conflicts of 2022 which aggrieved him so much. It’s clear the relationship has changed. (Relistening to the intense “That Smell” pair of episodes, the absolutely frenetic pace of problems and issues is amazing, hard to even keep up with Billy’s insane schedule and constant problems.) There seems to be light at the end of the tunnel; his challenge is that he’s still in the tunnel after all this.

Of late, a listener’s comparison catches his ear: a Sisyphean task isn’t the worst thing, we must remember. One of the finest essays of the 20th century, the Myth of Sisyphus, by A. Camus, concludes with the idea that this is our lot as humans, and we must learn to “be happy for Sisyphus.” This is relevant, as Billy is tired and sometimes speaks of being okay with his task on this planet ending. He is often alone and allows himself no real friends, classic celebrity-style. He still takes the losses terribly, painfully – the struggle is in him, even after all these years. However, the other side of the Sisyphus comparison is also relevant: the hero’s task was not his choice but a sentence for his pride which had offended the gods. In fact, as it is with all of us, old patterns never die no matter how much he stresses living the “examined life” that Socrates recommended: every choice the hero makes is right, he listens to no one, he picks his friends and allies tragically, always fighting with them in the end and needing to make up time years later. Similarly, he continues to lament that others have opinions and reactions to his thoughts and actions, still seeking that imaginary land where everyone is thoughtlessly cool on some SoCal beach of the mind. So, it’s all very Greek and really is the rare poker character drama, giving his story firm legs and a loyal(ish) following. Of late, his complaints about his patrons and listeners and the public reaction to his art have grown, occupying long stretches of the podcast in echoes of the great Lenny Bruce. Then the script flips, and he stops posting publicly, dedicated again to those actually supporting him.

1/24 An 8th season emerges, as predicted. Unlike the start of the 7th season, which featured Billy at the pinnacle of his story telling, with some episodes reaching an almost “This American Life” literary quality, we now hear a new tone of depression and anger and even a need for vengeance. He seems to have disappeared to Vegas for weeks and returned emptyhanded; the new theme song, for the first time, doesn’t really seem to fit his image but suits the malcontentedness. It’s always been work being a degen, and how he copes with the coming challenges will be key. Is Billy too sensitive for vengeance? Something keeps one from seeing how he will fight the “infringments.” What is more likely is this will be a year of personal growth and business success and ultimate maturity. His year of obsessing over his health has yielded little but content; we spend a fruitless episode in the emergency unit as culmination of a long substory. The good news is his new late night poker show is looking feasible and his patronage remains strong. The GPI Awards shaft him again, but with more and more of his content paywalled, perhaps that is just.

[2/24] What he overlooks, at his most desperate, is just how accomplished he actually is. He feels bad when comparing himself to the comfortable whales in this game, but the potential sale of Sessions to Hollywood would set him up for life and allow him to salvage his dreams. Even if that doesn’t happen, there are a thousand ways to leverage his hard work of the past decade – including this podcast, one of the few great autobios in poker.

Billy has returned to playing almost full time, despite his protestations of being retired. Making sense of his play is not for the novice. He sets up games and spots, action and reaction. He is a storyteller at the table but also a true gambler. Many poker players would be better off just accepting that he can play extremely well rather than trying to understand some of his decisions. He does not study and makes only cursory adjustments to the modern game – and that mostly makes sense, given the L.A. culture and the games he plays in are not 2020’s poker.

Whatever he does, this is the podcast that counts, because Sessions remains the story of the live grinder, that player-cum-gambler who so belongs to the game he is meant to play that he cannot escape its torments. It is striking how far he has come, from midnight heads up rat to game host, commentator, broadcaster, and genuine poker culture icon, in a pursuit of financial freedom that now seems as far off as ever. The true gambler lives in cash liquidity and the present, never the future.

[6/24] The new season wraps around the DLNPS and his kids, but the undertone is sparser. Billy is older and the high-energy anxiety is quieter if not quieted. A dog takes a shit in the middle of the street, in one of his more striking captured images – anything that gets him out of his head is good, even this odd detail. There are so many “walls,” as he causes his moments of lapsed faith and results, that it can only be that his life is a maze. The exit remains far away, but he and his audience are both good at enjoying the journey, no matter how depressed he gets. And that is the word, depression. While the podcast was at its manic peak just a year and a half ago, the draining sadness exudes from one of his longest episodes yet. Headstrong and (less) sure of himself, he pushes on, but the theme of Sisyphus returns. Another crossroads period – how will Billy respond? The deus ex machina of a new opportunity seems to hang in the air – or is he sabotaging that as well? The story goes on – in some senses, he lives mainly for the story itself, he seems to say.

[7/1/24] That story of Sessions has reached a sort of understated crisis point. In a bellwether episode, “Cruel World,” Billy signals that he is ready to come out of some recent morbidity brought on by poor results and the full realization that HCL, the golden goose and the current climax period of the pod, is over for him. These are (all too) familiar notes but now in a minor key. That’s in part because the change in his attitude is all brute strength and survival instinct: the survivors of abuse and suffering are soldiers of the personal emergency, of a cold war within. The cockroach theme, in other words. Billy has fiber, he is a family man with beautiful things to live for, he has priorities that make sense. Still, we’ve been here before, many times. Circularity. Billy announces he is ready to continue Sessions “forever,” and this too is not a coincidence for someone who is stuck on a level, trying to beat an unbeatable opp, to fight and win a war within or without. Cockroaches may outlive you and make for a good slogan, but they don’t learn much. A new way must be found; forever is almost a threat.

Happiness and comedy go hand in hand for a reason: they are feelings of resolution. In the latest podcast, so soon after the key Cruel World episode, Billy finds in the middle of his grind time for all his usual fun hiccups, golf, his kids, good times at the beach, and most significantly, teaching them poker. When you show NL to the young, they usually bluff and play crazy loose, which is fun, but the weight and symbolism of LMF’s J4 for Billy is storybook poignant. I don’t know if Billy will reach all his goals or pay all his debts, but they are nothing in comparison to these happy times. Everything can be okay.

Meanwhile the recaps of the games are spicey. Billy is in the trenches and the metagames are interesting. Supporting this player and storyteller seems all the more important at this point, as he gives so much to poker through the podcast.

[8/13/23] More comedy over patrons having opinions. Adults interact with material: in part that is what makes adults. Or perhaps the discourse over which adverb correctly describes our hero’s level of sensitivity is a bit of mockery of his more baffled supporters: a secret sense of humor about being humorless is something to like, I suppose. Either way, this wrinkle in poker’s prime autobiography is a curious and continuing one. Beyond the squabbles, the games are hard if not impossible, and Billy goes through so much pain that he needs as much peace of mind as possible. Everyone in poker should be a fan – but they will have to stand him complaining about his own supporters. Nothing is easy.

[9/2023] A rough month for the podcast. Billy’s uninterest in engaging with other material or lives leaves him with less and less new things to talk about. Not listening to other podcasts or reading anything is not the brag he thinks it is, if only because it shows. We need a new subplot, a renewed story in order to re-reach the podcasting heights of Sessions.

This finally arrives, just in time, in October 2024: new details about a reality show finally emerge. This is the big opportunity. Billy is a poker showman, and this will come naturally. All the opportunities and attitudes add up: can he finish here what he started with HCL?

Billy versus the World continues, in the guise of Matt Berkey this month. As loveable a character Billy is, someone who every live grinder should support, it is something of a shame he struggles to understand the opinions of others. In this case, he still does not understand what Matt has meant, which is of course, not that Billy had anything to do with abetting Nick, but that the family which pulled him in had little love for him or Soto or others, then or later. That Billy and Christian and others were suckers in this general, unspecific sense. It was a false “family,” Berkey is essentially opining. Further, why did Matt attack HCL and not Bally’s? It had less to do with who than what: Bally’s had the closed circuit, “trustless” system: no one can see the hole cards, no one. Whereas on HCL, to make the kind of content they do, the director (Ryan) needs access. That’s how the magic happens. Now, I like HCL’s way, frankly, because it is more of a story that can be told, so I myself could be called out for being “against” security, in some sense, if anyone cared about my opinion. Bally’s stream, to put it frankly, is more boring, if more secure. It doesn’t matter that card mechanic Houston Curtis is in the building, you would need Ocean’s 11 in the booth to crack it; once you turn on the system, it is a black box before the delay. Matt chose that, not picking on HCL mindlessly. All this is to say, our hero unfortunately struggles to understand what is being said and so once again misunderstands those around him, including his patrons. After dodging this paragraph for months, I have to write it now, because it is exasperating that no one else can or will. Even if someone offered to help Billy understand, he’d only be angry. Such is life, such is our unique and uniquely self-isolating hero.

As 2024 ends, the real drama is hinted at: what is happening at DLPS? Or more soberly, what is not. Currently, the show is two bald men fighting over a comb. The only thing of value here is the potential realignment of the stars right now, with Nick V disappearing, Ryan liking Billy, and the separation from Peter to take advantage of. Get back on the hole card, prime time horse or fail. Can our hero pull the sword out of the stone? What is he really up to? It can’t possibly be just more of the same, right? Right?

[2025] Billy sounds more energetic so far, and the pods so far reflect his redoubled and redoubled again commitment to new projects and new hopes. An especially intense basketball episode where his son “grows up” on the court. Season 8 already sounds significantly better than his lumbering and moaning Season 7 performance, one which was probably the bottom of Sessions in several ways – even the logo this year is sharp and impressive. Another breakout year ahead? By February, while it is clear the mental anguish level is high, it seems Billy is handling the pressure better than in the past.

March brings back defiance as a theme, as the protagonist’s tragic flaw of being resistant to outside information leaves him cranky at various attempts to influence his opinions – even to the point of upsetting his home life. He carries his profitless show on his back, hurting and bleeding himself like a performance artist. His constant claims about insights into shades of meaning that no one else has are naive to the point of being endearing, I suppose. It’s all inevitable, though: Billy is constantly under high degrees of stress, making him anxious and prone to tilt and hyperbole and suffering: it’s a vicious cycle. His reluctance to repartner with HCL is likely costing him money, but it seems a slow-motion reunion is probable. Meanwhile, his optimism rests in a new idea mentioned here many times: the sale of Sessions rights to Hollywood. It’s a big deal (the lodestar of his entire effort, really) but the money is likely far down the line. Billy needs something to break his way now, immediately, as the staking deal is almost in need of replenishment. This Spring may be the most crucial time period for Billy since J4. March is also a big month as Billy’s passion for basketball helps bring back excitement to the podcast, and after six months of waiting for the obvious to happen, he resumes commentary work. He continues to bleed off his bankroll: the commentary gig could not have returned at a better moment. Timing, they say, is everything. More seriously, winning is harder than people think it is, and every error is crushing, especially the ones we don’t see. The month closes with the belated acknowledgement of the Hustler reunion, the ongoing suffering of the climb back, and Billy’s wish to be the best poker commentator. Is he really the best commentator? Whatever you think, being creative gives him an incredible edge over the play-by-play guys. Sometimes he is lethargic in the booth, yet that can work especially when the game is active. I don’t think it matters much who is best, really: L.A. and its games and its special, gambling style belong to Billy, and everyone else seems like an outsider, a hired gun from a different pool.

April hears Billy address a constant bit of advice – take a vacation. He refuses and says he can’t afford to stop paddling because he’s drowning. I think people understand that and still think some time would lend perspective, but what they are missing is more profound character knowledge: Billy loves the struggle and will never give up the pain. He’s not wrong: pain is life and so he knows where to find it. More good news as Billy finally gets commentary going at Lucky Lady; better late than never. He also starts doing early morning live recordings of the pod, purpose unknown. He is leaning really hard into the basketball dad life; can we imagine him, for the first real time, leaving it all behind, to enjoy life and breathe again? To take a bankruptcy, escape his creditors, renegotiate his unviable monthly nut? Not really.

May brings a big win to stave off bankroll trouble, and later a good session at the Commerce. While Billy doesn’t want to fight with regular players and dismisses the public, normie scene as “snipers” and “dirty grinders,” he still knows how to deal with fish. Another big potential turnaround. He’s got his show and his game where he wants it – even if at significant personal investment. His stress levels are off the charts.

WSOP 2025 we see and hear about Billy arriving for a non-vacation in Las Vegas. Nothing feels right or goes right at first; I even house warm the place with a Gulden he doesn’t turn out to want. It’s always been striking that he doesn’t really say much about the dinners people have with him – natural discretion, I suppose. In what is probably the highlight week for the year, the darkness of the lead up to the Seniors High Roller yields to one of his most light-hearted podcasts. He finally sounds good again, after months of mental wandering. The truth is, underneath all the bullshit and all the problems, when he can afford to play, he likes it because he is a poker player, a real one. There is no stress at the tournament or certain late-night games that suit him better than the tiresome chess of full-ring. We are all like this at heart, but can we find our place? For someone who listens to no one, it is harder. He is a trial and error guy. Back to the L.A. grind but thinner and as determined as ever to go his own way. Work on multiple fronts should pay off. The later years of the pod vacillate in tone and quality but remain a consistently good psychological portrait of the American male.

August 2025 brings us two episodes which display the dynamic and binary nature of Billy’s life. In the first, “Holes in My Teeth,” the podcaster sounds abysmally depressed. It’s a horrible listen and one worries for him. Then, only a week later, he is fresh and ready. He has so many blessings, he both realizes and shares with the audience – a beautiful family, an interesting life, reasons to fight. Managing these swings of despair and gratitude is one of Sessions’ biggest themes. Meanwhile, the latest staking roll is bottoming out – can he bounce it off the floor or will he be hitting up the patrons for another round? September 2025 brings the inevitable bust. Back in King Lear mode, Billy rails at the fates and the storms of Variance. He says he is fine without the stakers, indicating his fury at the heavens or hinting at his endless credit with certain deep-pocketed friends. Something needs to break his way.

October 2025 brings to the surface the quiet revolution in Billy’s performative story: from player to businessman. The hands as played are out of touch; think on the reasoning with QJhh and A9o. So, the player could use refocus, but instead of looking at sharpening up, there is no real time, because Billy has become an entrepreneur. He’s always been a carny, a hustler, but now he is dedicated to making bigger moves. He writes and prefers to write, even over family time in some cases – not something he would have mentioned, even a short time ago. He has employees and does a good job with them. It’s been a slow change, of course, but this is the moment of recognition. He is on fire in a new, mature way. So, the next question is, what will come of it? What obstacles and errors lay in wait? The stakes remain high, even if the pod has become somewhat docile and patronage is down.

Later that month Billy pulls out all the stops in describing a nice $300 win at 5/5/10 Gardens. He’s at his most entertaining, no longer in his head, which he realizes. Is it a bit forced? Sure, but sometimes to have to make things happen. It’s worth noting this “entertainer” personality: he is no longer the beleaguered reg, but something of a poker personality, and in that order. The years are passing: we are not necessarily who we once were.

In Dec ’25 we hear Billy embracing changes. He doesn’t want to tip as much, he wants to fight against game poachers this time, he has special attachments to certain fountain drinks. He calls himself an old man and is talking like one. Family first. If he could end up somewhere teaching basketball to kids, it would be the happy ending he deserves. Letting go of his debts and squaring things with the IRS is his best chance forward. In truth, much of the basketball stuff is “the story” but is not the most compelling radio. It’s hard to imagine the listenership growing under the current rubric. Can he reboot in Season 9 and so boost his income and reach? It would take a reorganizing for sure. A trip could be just the thing. While one is curious about the pilot and the screenplay, I hope it captures the tragic aspect of the story: our host is a hero of poker and with a classically tragic flaw. To tie the essential nature of the conflict into the poker stuff will be key. Can it be done well without expert help?

With “All-Star Weekend” (March 2026) the basketball pod period reaches its zenith in a long, thematically packed episode. We hear multiple ideas at fruition; this is the most compelling drop in months. Billy as basketball dad also adds a bit of ironic, personalizing humor that the story has lacked. At one point in a previous drop, he asserts he “doesn’t care” about the results of his team, which the listener knows is an outrageous fib. In fact, in this episode he almost admits how much it means when he implores the team to up their efforts for him. He tilts as if it were a poker session when he can’t control the kids in the first matches and he takes a couple rare losses. Another coach offers him advice which he won’t listen to; all this is familiar as proxy to the rest of his life. And really, why should he listen? He does well enough, supposing the parents even see him as the “John Wooden” of the league. This, in fact, is one of the key themes of all Sessions: the charismatic man who wants everything his way and the small tragedy of being headstrong when other people and other ways of thinking could have helped. Sessions constantly asks how do we interact with the world but not compromise ourselves? We love these characters because of their flaws because we love their passion, not in spite of them. The streaming drama also peaks in this episode, too, as Billy finds himself resenting having given in to adding RFID. “I never wanted this.” He knows best how to set it all up but there are issues. Still, he is justifiably proud, crowing at having accomplished his stream, calling himself the ultimate “carny” of poker who could open a game in the jungle; the imagery of Billy convincing baboons to play poker is amusing – dogs playing cards needs an update. Meanwhile, his hired hands disappoint him, his wife disappoints him, society itself disappoints him, yet all he wants to do is save the world: no one understands him. Pain, failure, success, and above all the struggle to live the way one wants: quite the episode for poker’s one of a kind late night hero.

In any case, whether it is reality tv or another streaming spot, for Billy opportunity is always just around the corner. We listen, now for years, hoping he can find it and seize it. This is one of the few pieces of media in poker that will matter. What a treasure it will be for his children and for people interested in live poker culture and history.

Rating: JJ

Basically, lots of decent listening for the tournament crowd, and plenty beyond as well, all at one of the most pleasant pacings among variety show-type poker podcasts. More heavily produced than most and is likely a treat for many listeners in a medium full of bare-bones efforts. [2021] The Chip Race goes on reliably and has to be one of the few long-term “important” pods in the industry. I don’t like their turn toward more hand analysis, which is mostly comically stern, rote PIO comparisons that have little to do with anything; these guys are more charming than smart.  [2021: note they also do a Youtube program called the Lock-in, not sure if this is podcast as well, or not] On catching up on the Eric Danis episode, the two trot out the usual circle jerk of favorites and don’t offer any criticism of Danis’ often inexplicably lazy process, which doesn’t even surface many major contributions to the poker scene while rewarding quotidian efforts and even click-bait articles by content quant hacks (to my chagrin I now see why – they saw the enemy and it was them, et cetera). I’d expect these guys to do better, having been through the GPI wringer already and being so familiar with, well, everyone.

[2/2022] They begin their 17th season, ensconced in the poker media firmament, with their parade of diverse (in the meaningful sense) guest choices. [3/2022] Thin interview with personality cipher Kevin Martin who apparently thinks the reason J. Koon wins is he finds good spots, wonders “what happened” to Phil Ivey, that PH’s marketing is underrated, and that he’s “in love” with Jen Tilly; the boys just skip over his mayonnaise toast enthusiasms. Still, that’s kind of the secret: Dara and David really have what it takes to manage a conversation, even with this blow-up doll. Few if any do this sort of thing better in our industry: all the lost, sloppy pods with no audience could really learn from their easy patter and professional-level editing. Excellence in what you do, whatever it is, is important. Opportunity to interview Ivonne Monteleagre draws a bunch of cliches – the issue of sex in poker is not handled well in general, given what is ostensibly at stake. This is the flip side of their skills as interviewers – they know how to easily make chit-chat content but to what end? More importantly, it makes me wonder if women in poker really is an issue at all. August brings some oft repeated strategy stuff, well-communicated. [8/2022] Continues with great guests. Kind of a waste of Gary B’s appearance, given his strategic genius. Instead, we get a snoozer of a hand from Lappin. I know it’s a tourney pod, but it’s still too much of a tourney pod. Weird recommendations on combos from Dara when talking to Shahade, herself aflutter over her J6 jam; all combos want some level of denial, the first question is how much and if they can afford their need – much like life itself. LOL donkaments, as a wise man once posted. [11/2022] With Only Friends tanking, I have to move them up just based on their overall excellence and more humble service to the community. [5/23] Bingo Hall organ music still flowing, chat still chatty, and still picking up all the big guests for a zippy chinwag: the “special relationship” is real, despite what Peter Hitchens says.

[2/24] Dreadful episode with Maria Konnikova where they affirm together that neutrality in journalism is unimportant if you’re right. Maria, a writer for some of the world’s best magazines, can’t imagine why Phil, legendary expert, would be interested in seeing a player’s face and hides behind some study, while the hosts merely nod along. Of course, actual ethics demand you present both sides especially when one side is questionable – that is how speech in a free society is protected. Dara at least acknowledges that poker media is a trade media. Now if he can just realize that the call is coming from inside the house, maybe he can do better than echo weak opinions and still keep his sponsorship. The Chip Race, in sum, is a high-quality podcast but one that often lacks heft.

[7/24] Big episode with Elwood, Konnikova, and Tamayo is worth hearing. Lappin mentions a compelling anecdote about Matt Savage adjudicating a solver issue in the playing area correctly; at the same time, he makes it about “optics” rather than say, principles. What’s also funny is the advert for the episode which lauds Tamayo for breaking his silence. Hello, you’re the ambassador of poker now, dummy. Terrific episode other than Dara regurgitating solver results solemnly: it’s just not as profound as he thinks it is.

[2025] More of the usual. Some of the best coverage and light editorializing in poker. They remain polite, active, and reasonable if a bit limited. They bring back Kat for their sub-pod The Lock-in; while predictable in her positions, she is always clear and energetic. This podcast is a good outward face of poker, but you’ll have to go elsewhere for more intestinal listening. David Lappin’s whining about U.S. politics, which he has a frozen ear for, is a turn off but he keeps it mostly to Twitter, thankfully.

They win the GPI, again. The Europeans control the vote because the GPI is a world tournament thing. [2025] A standby podcast with a bit of everything: good enough. The irony being, they started as outsiders but are now more servants of the industry, involved in all sorts of things and beloved by the right people. In truth, that isn’t irony, that is the way of the world. Their Lock-In episodes are much better than the actual podcast, as the two can elicit some depth when not racing through the chips. On a side note, some sort of “unfiltered” bumbling comes out where Lappin calls for a “new black friday.” Then, more incredibly stupid political commentary on twitter. Our boys are clowns at heart, and that is part of what keeps them on top.

[4/2025] Listening to Dara once again lean on the solver rather than evince a greater theoretical understanding of strategy has become tedious. The opening is tedious. Have these guys finally outworn their own pattern? No, poker still needs The Chip Race, no matter how annoying they really are, because they cover the field, again and again. This is in part why they stole the award again.

[6/25] Good news. After making a spectacle of themselves shutting down and being unwilling to work on spec, Dara and David grab a sponsor and carry on, somewhat tiresomely. Let’s hope part two is funnier and less predictable, given how annoying these two can be.

[10/25] The stupidity of some of poker culture, evinced here by the boys who learn humans are humans, is more than tiresome. They bring on poker cheerleader Craig Tapscott for an embarrassing bit on Stephen Chidwick’s humanity. The inch-deep coverage is given a sanctimonious massage. “Could vulnerability be seen as weakness?” What would really be interesting would be some intelligent coverage of how this vulnerable personality is organized into the shield we see, but here we are, “fascinated” by day one observations about nature. “Our feelings are not always the best judge of where we are at,” Craig enthuses bizarrely. Elliot Roe, performance whisperer, is invoked. “Dr. Grace talked about choosing healthy things.” Sure, yes, just do that, duh.

For all the small issues, these guys deliver their product on the reg. It must be comforting especially for the tournament players and those across the pond to have a high-quality pod about and for their scene.

Rating: Two bangers

[3/2022] The latest episode is a platform for Shahade’s chess thoughts and the various societal causes that have co-driven her content and public life. Often when one is righteous, the energy is powerful but soon goes elsewhere; the issue for the pod is that that there’s still a long way to go on that poker hand matrix. Has the novelty of the Grid worn off for her, if not her audience? Where will the guests come from as the usual celebs are used up? Some of the answer is turning to more and more chess and chess players. “I’ve never been an endurance type of person,” she notes, but as we continue to listen, she still sounds enthusiastic. I suppose she could go deeper and ask more challenging questions of her guests – her kid handling of Olivier was a little tedious and he returned the favor on Two Lives – but this is still the most balanced and excellent of poker podcasts after several years, one that represents the community well and in a favorable light. Latest episode with Katie Stone reflects this. Angela Jordison episode is funny as you hear tournament poker thoughts in their wild, natural state. “AK might not be good there as my range is so wide.” Poker players are often as strategically contradictory as their culture.

[12/2022] As the podcast continues, Jen is more and more determined to bridge poker to chess, the most accepted so-called “skill game.” The Grid, in other words, is her part of a long history of efforts to bring poker out of the shadows, for better and worse, and thus aligned with the tournament craze, data generalizations, and the more agreeable people in the industry. Nate Solon episode is excellent; I really like how Jennifer gets a lot of ideas out of her guests quickly – a key lesson, maybe the key lesson, for other podcasters. In a sense, however, Jennifer is wasted on podcasts, being photogenic in an expressive, actorly way: in some more organized universe of poker, Jennifer leads its Today Show. [5/23] Finally a new show after three months; that one issue of continuation is going to be a struggle now. [7/2023] After a long run at number one, it’s time to acknowledge Jennifer is less committed to the Grid as a poker podcast, both in frequency and in poker focus. Still a great run of pods.

[2024] The Grid is disappearing. Once number one, I’ll leave it here until we are sure it is finished.

[2025] As was possible, the Grid returns. We’ll leave it floating here for the moment and see if it can regain its top position.

Rating: QQ

Lots of sound drops, so a little juvenile. [4/2025] pretty consistent output and less silly drops mean this emotional and raving podcast is one of my new favorites. The real life of vegas mid stakes through the eyes of a long-time lover and hater of the game. [8/2025] Of late Dan has been going into the “war stories” which are little less interesting the current fight. Survival, not memory, makes for the most compelling listening. At the same time, Dan rounds out his character and history with the stories, if not some of the poker boom itself.

As the podcast ages and achieves its niche, it’s clear Dan has some work to do as an interviewer. Rants about poker remain his best material. The Freddy interview, however, gets at the heart of many shitreg issues, and is worth a listen, despite horrible sound problems.

Such a great podcast at its best. Episode 57 shines with anger, frustration, insights, characters and the poker story. Equivalent to the best of the Sessions during its amazing early years. The interviews remain turds: maybe it’s appropriate that such a lone wolf, constantly howling at the moon and scratching at his fleas, has no way of really managing his guests. [12/25] Someone tells me Dan needs Jason Su, but that would defeat the purpose: Dan must suffer.

The second guest on WGL is the earnest but always tedious Jeff Gross. Soccer was his passion. Being around winners helps make you a winner. Imagine Twitch was earlier, things would have been different. Whoa. Next, the Fedor episode is a big improvement.  Early on, Dan stumbles into a great topic, that someone has to lose in the non-cooperative game of poker, but briefly dazed by his own observation, he leads us back to the “everyone winning” theme of the pod: irony wins, anyway. It’s rough at first as Fedor clearly wants to dump pablum on the audience, telling us he loved poker because it challenged him and gave him people to talk to; he recommends be yourself, not what someone else wants you to be. Didn’t you retire? Then, Dan’s natural contrariness starts to create interest. He questions Fedor’s bromides and forces his guest to offer some meaningful thoughts. They parry over honesty and debts. Fedor closes strong, however, striking back with some luxury belief bombs, and part one ends comically. In part two, more self-delusion and praise on “impact.” Fedor’s voice trails off in one spot as he briefly runs out of vagueness to peddle. Regrouping admirably, Fedor rediscovers his natural voice and expresses what is working and really is helping him win the game of life: doing, and not getting lost in thought. Then, back to the midwit opining: he tells us pharmaceutical companies don’t have the goal of helping general health, as if it is some sort of revelation that a person’s goal is not a product they can buy. Do the thing. Don’t train, jump high, Fedor says as he unwinds his brain. Funny stuff; I could imagine this one becoming my favorite if Dan fully manifests himself and doesn’t just let these sun-runners yawn all over us. Next, good news: Dan brings his best game to the Phil G. episode. However, his rambling yielding less fruit than he’d hoped, near the climax and sensing his own dithering, Dan has to remind himself of the podcast’s stated premise, because it was never really the point to begin with. What is? Dan being Dan of course.

New WGL episode with Dan Smith is boring and even weirder than usual. Jungleman brings up being a personal assistant as a life path, while Dan complains about some of his PAs; it’s just all so random, as they say. “The charity business” Dan pontificates upon, not even thinking to interrogate the give-away phrase. “High Quality People” gets shuffled about unironically: love it. The story, it turns out, of the Dans is having too much money and no real purpose, but giving away money helps ease the existential discomfort. Purpose, of course, goes beyond the mere allocation of resources and is a massive theme for poker players who are essentially free agent ants, lost without their queen but still great at grabbing stuff. Their short-sighted EV appetite exposes their flank to purposelessness; Jungleman seems to be confronting this in his Krishna readings. Good for him.

At first I skip over an episode where some x-classer urges people to find out why they are here; the luxury of easy money too early debases many. While on the grift and womanizing and drugging and basically shitting on life, while South America was on fire and needed his talents, things didn’t have meaning, somehow; now it does, living in some beautiful village in Guatemala with his wife, somehow, some way. What a lesson for his fellow trust funders, who have suffered so much. Humorously, this clown is re-regrifted by one of his women, but he bounces right back thanks to some viral video, originally targeting yet another sponsored hipster, valorizing his stupidity; all this is why Being There is one of the seminal art works, a kind of Vanity Fair for our age. It only gets better as he now teaches yoga and “metaphysics,” which he calls “basically magic”: I am going to die of laughter describing this happy-go-lucky fool. Mazzi even manages to dodge whatever was awaiting him in Egypt; there are plenty of “gurus” pining for such “students” of “astral travel” and “lucid dreaming.” Covid turns out to be the greatest gift of his life, as it keeps him from his regimen of world travelling and starting failed businesses; one can only wonder how many lives had to be upended so that this guy could enjoy meditating by the pool in paradise. What’s amusing is all this is exactly the kind of crap Dan is supposed to be in the mood for, but he can’t hide that he’s a little put out, having bitten off more than he chew: I feel your pain, Dan, but will you learn the lesson? Krisha Hare, Hare Hare.

On the latest, more comedy as Dan points out that “Yoh Viral” Johan is French but also influential and gets needled back by his guest. The unintentional amusement never ends on this pod, including the new digs, which mirror the old S4Y set up, give WGL a sort of European chat show vibe, missing only the hired live audience to cheer and boo the cliches – now that would be fun and appropriately showmanesque for wrestling fan Dan. “I don’t call the people I love,” Viral explains, telling us he makes videos in part to connect with them – the pathology of this statement nicely captures the social media/influencer scene. More “journey” bavardage: the most interesting stories are never in advertisements, by definition, as authenticity requires a certain humility. “Influencers are mostly the same [person]” YV notes, with key insight and honesty, and compliments Dan on being different. YV also sees the bigger picture on growing the game, catching Dan bizarrely off guard – what is in Dan’s head is hard to predict. Johan closes with a bit of fun with Dan’s general bewilderment, a good show overall. Moving this one up if only because Dan is so unusual and important to poker, but in fact, his interviews and pokerfaceless reactions to his guests make the pod great on their own. [8/2022] Martin J. episode is almost comically stiff and banal (“Nutrition is a passion of mine,” he says, dispassionately) until Jungle takes on measuring the sorts of giving Jacobson is involved in; Dan’s passions are always amusing. Koon episode is light and pleasant. Funny moment when Dan, who has destroyed the opposition and taken their bankrolls, talks about how great and rich life is at the high stakes: winning. “Poker’s a pretty good living if you can figure out how to be really good at it.” LOL, as they say.

September brings us Tommy Angelo, the original mentalist and dubious poker coach who is a good match for Jungle’s sophomoric spirituality quest. Of course you can choose to avoid certain kinds of suffering: being an airhead is clearly the one advised here (and as Tommy has hinted elsewhere, the green happy stuff helps). Pure babble, and this is the place for it, perhaps unexpectedly. It’s amusing to hear these happy goofballs burble about enlightenment (“total or not”) and detachment from appetites: yeah, that’s called death, bro – but let’s not harsh the mellow. In one hilarious segment, Jungle preaches his version of the prosperity gospel. Winning! Catching up, the Nate Silver episode is very strong, although even these two high IQ people just can’t handle their political biases and end up in their own cul-de-sacs: very Jungleman. Petrangelo episode is quiet and focused on poker. This podcast is easily the best of poker chat culture because the Jungle is increasing himself and that is where it’s at. Ausmus episode is low key and satisfying, although Dan has amusingly forgotten his own dips into poker scandal and bad behaviors. Nice sedate hour with Jason Mo, the HU expert turned cryptonaire. More crypto griftography with Bryan Pellegrino, who you clearly should not trust further than the width of a data packet; amusing to hear them talk about building “healthy communities” while building on the principle of “trustlessness.” Creepy words like “orthogonal” are added to the usual “impact” business vocab diarrhea – keep your palm on your wallet.

[9/23] Interesting pairing of Callmelija and Melanie Weisner, two successful poker players. Melanie clearly has a full personality and is able to explain to Dan and the audience all kinds of truths, while Adriana barely registers as present. Interesting closing as Melanie wonders if Dan thinks the Cobra Effect applies to online dating. Dan spills the beans when he says “most American men have no chance [here],” one of the contemporary laments about the culture we have created. She is on the right track: humans are not products on the market and treating them as such has devalued not men and their chances but the availability of love itself. The dating market turns people into puzzle pieces, yet every utilitarian relationship is the closure of idealism, romance, and faithfulness. It’s a lot for Dan to handle, but the good news is wise Melanie offers to help him. He doesn’t need help, at heart, but who knows what self-contortions he and society have wrought. Most medicalizations of personality – calling your child neurodivergent, that she has ADHD, etc. – are obviously false, and no interview with Dan suggests this more, as, yes, he is overwhelmed by Melanie’s sagacity and realism to an extent, but then wrestles with the issues and the dynamic as normally as any human who ever lived. I wonder if he could break down this personal fourth wall, or if these labels and faux diagnoses really are too much of a crutch of these generations.

Continues to be one of the very best pods in poker. Still, in the latest with Dominik Nitsche, Jungle opens the pod by half seriously asking if he is into Dominatrix and such because of his name. Somehow Dominik restrains himself. Dan is clearly retarded. Keep it up.

May 2025 brings on Owen Messere “Prodigy” for a good review of his crushing play. While he giggled his way through the Kaki stuff, he’s a little more relaxed here. Dan sounds more confident as host, too.

As other pods fall in intensity or purpose or focus, it’s time to acknowledge that Dan is not only one of the faces of poker, he has become a stop on the interview circuit. That means one of the best ever is representing poker and interrogating poker. Lack of episodes and a few other details keep WTGL from being the best podcast it can be. With no episodes in the second half of 25, Dan may have already peaked. Rating: A10s

The “Choochoohuahuas” certainly love to yap: Grant and Jonathan have created an astonishing body of content, so much you have to apparently buy their older poker podcasts on disk: the internet ran out of room for all that yak. The Guys do have an unfortunate weakness (and maybe all of us do) for judging play they may not understand; they seem to be aware of it, though. The main thing is, G. and J., even if you disagree with them, go through their own logic far, far more completely than almost any other poker strategy show, while simultaneously doing it in a fun, clear way. Neither double down on their opinions and take natural joy in both teaching the game while poking fun at each other. The bottom line is anyone who enjoys thorough if standard mid-level analysis is going to find voluminous pod fod here. [9/2023] They open a second podcast – as just one won’t contain the chatter. Rating: Dash Money

This podcast has a lot of value for the true believer in poker – so much content! “Real cash money” he promises in the latest episode, apparently through some dusty freeroll on some site somewhere, in order to celebrate his return to health. This is not trivial: August 15, the date of this pod, is a key one for Todd, as he announces his escape from depression, more specifically, the horrifying state known as Anhedonia (and not Colson Whitehead’s lazy conceit). Todd needed to retrain his focus on greater meaning to escape the darkness of whatever web he had spun for himself; we all at some point must share Todd’s moment in order to better confront the spending down of one’s life, which dims like a preset-theater light while the day continues to shine outside. Reorientation can be difficult, but our basic human mythology exists for ornery radio hosts, too; one can be glad and reassured by Todd’s escape.

As for the pod itself, Todd promises to “break the mold of boredom” but I’m not sure he knows what that means, as he often delivers on his threat all too well. If you can stay in touch with this one, you’re braver, tougher, or more committed to the game than I, and I think you will find value for it: he and his set of followers are both trouble and always looking for trouble. Whatever your opinion, Todd certainly brings the talk: set aside a year to catch up on what must be a kind of populists’ cultural history of poker. [12/2021] Reading through some forum posts, which is admittedly not the podcast, Todd seems have some very smart opinions, but I have not been able to listen much. [4/2022] Tenth anniversary show. Great commitment by Todd, who sounds good and who has conquered his own creation. A remarkable running commentary on poker, this podcast. As 2023 plays out, some distraction over Todd’s person itself, as his Neanderthal views on sex get him into trouble several times. Rating: KQs.

Second guest Bill Perkins offers some fairly vulgar but viable life interpretation in episode two. Liv is good at re-explaining him but does not question his assumptions, letting him offer a surface glance at the sexual market place. (Although when Bill tells us the defining characteristic of the population of Texas is that people wish you well on your journey even Liv starts to wake up to the brain barbeque.) She starts to grill him on “externalities,” as if we don’t breathe without killing things, but they mutually elide the question as if it were some binary choice. Hello? People like Bill overwhelm you with their banal life calculus, droning on about how valuable their time is, but Liv is more tormented, torn between her thin leftism and her game theory awareness. However, when she gets him to explain how the market works, the podcast is magic, because now we hear the real deal. Later, when Bill claims victims are in vogue, she sours and explains his attitude as a kind of “radical optimism,” implicitly defending the opposite – it’s hard to play both sides well. She is repeatedly repulsed and attracted to his peculiar brand of oblivious hardness – the biological story of humanity never really changes. Bill’s monologue on accountability is memorable and the highlight of the pod so far; of course, she misses the great irony of Bill’s public life – life is not about accumulating memories but it is about serving those you love and need, which Bill in fact does better than anyone. In the end, she does a good job bringing out the great human from his buffoonish presentation, but it’s mostly accidental. It will be good to see how this podcast develops if only to understand the trends and pathologies of the data-driven lifestyle and its ambassadors.

Long-awaited return of Cate Hall to the poker world happens on Win-Win, which is a coup of sorts. We start with some incredibly dumb observations/questions on the law, but overall, Liv makes things work, even when she’s treading water. Liv isn’t really up for interrogating the religious experience Cate describes, but the conversation is still worth it, and she gives Cate plenty of room to tell her side and to reveal her astonishing intelligence and equivalent blind spots. Liv, in other words, has the work ethic and character to make this pod a long-term winner. In fact, quietly, she is already sneaking up on Phil Hellmuth (and certainly Doug Polk) as a sort of leading extra-poker breakout personality. When he goes, she may become, to the surprise of many, one of the most important people in the industry.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt interview next is more of a disappointment, as his understanding of AI, and certainly his embarrassing takes on how markets work, are too simple get anywhere. “There’s some real value to the ‘invisible hand'” he blunders through his argument over stories. “Runaway Capitalism!” he brainlessly invokes, while Liv can only nod along, failing to interrogate his meaningless observations because she, of course, agrees with them. It’s slightly miserable that he can make a publicly printed argument about residuals, one of the most insanely complex equity systems for human labor, propose that we come up with an even harder one to credit actors’ inputs into AI learning, and not realize this is precisely what you have to do to make marketless economies work. (Love or hate Marx, the man was extremely intelligent, and he would have understood this, while his cretinous emissaries rarely know what is coming out of their own mouths.) When she was up against Cate or Bill, she disagreed and had more to say. AI literally can’t write like humans or create high art as it has no capacity to evaluate context; what people are really (rightly) afraid of is how their mediocrity will be exposed.

[8/2024] Haven’t listened in a while but there are new episodes and looks like things are going strong. The dreaded “relationship secret” episode with Igor even seems decent.

Pretty good stuff overall. Even with little poker content, this is clearly one of the best podcasts to come out of the poker industry Rating: two hotspots

At one point there is a potentially fun but bizarrely ill-executed guest game called “The Game.” (In this episode, Isaac associates eating a poisonously disgusting food with a perfectly acceptable poker author he didn’t need to insult; he was possibly confused by the rules.) Listening to this podcast, unlike Mechanics, so far reminds me how little distance there is between high stakes players and low stakes players; perhaps that is inspiring to others, as well. It’s all about commitment to your craft, in the same way that a boring marriage is so inspiring to the wandering libertine: people want to be told the same things over and over because they know they are stuck in their ways.

Rating: lots of implieds

The diet repetition is striking: people obsessed with their calorie quality are rarely your friend, they are literally distracted by their own metabolism. His thought that someone would want to listen to him talk is what makes David conversely interesting, I suppose. “Keep fit and keep reading the bible,” he reminds himself or maybe us; I’m not sure he knows who he is talking to.  As he unwinds his thoughts he becomes quieter and more distant and you hear the misguided and painful alienation that rules his life. Fascinating but will take a strong stomach or a sociological mind to follow. What really matters we rarely have time for. [6/2022] David heads to the WSOP. He intends to see One and other disturbed tourist traps; I’d be fascinated by the podcast if I had the patience but David is just too comfortable in his suffering. His comment on being frustrated by not finding anyway “natural” to find someone “like on Bumble” is pathetic, but a pathos for this entire dumb generation. “I do get jealous of my friend’s moustache… it’s solid… he comes into my juice bar.” Is this real life? I’m impressed he’s made it this far in the pod and wish him well: this kind of honesty is compelling and rarer than you think. The small detail of him wanting the child and her wanting an abortion, but now keeping him from his child is interesting stuff. Think about David when you see the long lines of lost-looking men queueing the WSOP. [12/2022] Soul searching and pain from David as he comes to grips with his life, being pushed back into the poker scene, and being separated from his son. Unlike DGAF’s family story, it’s not clear David has the resources to overcome his challenges yet. The latest episode ends abruptly – this is more reality than most people can handle and it’s nice to know it exists.

[5/23] David gets a stake for play at Rivers and he makes some money; a little poker talk here and there. Funny anecdote about player looking for coke, told simply – more of this stuff is always good. David seems to have so little authority, when he tells a story about one of his crazy women, his sanity is immediately a question. David is confused when an interview doesn’t work out: bathos. Christian reading rooms, dates, loneliness, confusion. He’d like “to get into something more dangerous, more adventurous” as his voice trails off miserably. Many of us are just hanging on.

[3/24] Revealing episode where David’s bitterness and errors and wrath all come together to horrible effect.

[2025] Likely done, curiously on account of the lack of poker play. He has a job in the industry now – surely that is going to be just as interesting? On cue, he returns.

Rating: ATo

For one thing, they really can’t do anything wrong, or more precisely, anything of consequence, because they are so ensconced in the poker firmament – critique beyond observation is truly futile. The two are often so immune to outside information that it is hard for players or the public to even interact with them in any effective way; thus all the amusing anecdotes. At the table, their strategies are so bizarrely primitive (yet because of the way poker works, still highly competitive; Phil himself is one of the greatest players ever by any sane metric), all while being so certain of themselves despite the advances in poker, that they are like iron-age mechanics mocking the absurd lack of solidity of a rubber tire. In one memorable moment on Live at the Bike, Phil is so outraged at a cooler delivered to his buddy that he raves at the fearsome Garrett Adelstein – not exactly a novice to the game – to the point that any human with less experience and control would have had words or flattened the ridiculous, short-stacking, long-bodied whiner, this Bill de Blasio of poker. Finally Garrett lets off some steam with a mildly sardonic comment about how well he runs. Phil freezes, shocked back to reality at what he decides is an “insane” comment. Usually it takes a yeoman fiction writer to make up irony this rich.

With that kind of baggage, preparing to listen to the Mike Matusow podcast – already declared the best poker podcast by his all-star buddy and staker – isn’t exactly easy. I start backwards with the “Phil Hellmuth Special with Special Guest Phil Hellmuth, Part 1” (Again, how does one respond to this stuff?) Yet Mike somehow makes the show about himself – which is what, a relief?

I think it actually is. Matusow is a veteran and speaks with conviction. It’s not impossible to forget, for a few moments, all the craziness when someone who has been through it all answers calls and maybe more than others, makes himself available to the public. Sometimes people are just interesting whether they are behind the glass or not, and if anything, the poker podcasts like this one can remind us of how fragile and sympathetic those we are needfully wary of really are.

Still, bring your headphones. Rating: Four Rants.

[3/20] I catch up with Mike’s recounting of his time in Cabo. One of the powers of social media is you find out just what that crazy uncle does on days that aren’t Thanksgiving or Christmas. [8/2020] Last pod was in May, the energy is gone from the “best podcast.” [2022] Happy to report Mike is back and energized and rambling like a drunk at a bar. He goes all year to my surprise – I’m curious as to who the audience is. [5/23] No output since January, but we’ll leave it up because if Mike does one thing right, it’s come back from the depths. 5/24 back again!

[7/2025] Still creaking along. Lots of sports aka betting stuff.

Update [11/2020] As predicted, Robbie is gone and former pro Chris Warren in now in, promising a more strategy heavy podcast. [9/2021] Warren is now out, back to the true horse of RCP, James Sweeney, for Season 5. [5/2022] I click on the latest, this time hosted by Adam “Weasel” Jones, who lives up to his nickname with abrasively irritating take on poker wisdom from the past. He doesn’t seem to understand what the words ancient, or theorem mean; if we want to use exaggeration to make our point, what exactly is SuperSystem if the year 2000 is ancient? Lining up your stuffed animals in order to shoot them doesn’t prove much valor; really weak, unfair stuff from an otherwise noted coach who should use his genius to see just how far these theorists got without what he keeps calling a “GTO solver”: can i get a non-gto solver? I guess we all have bad takes, this is still a decent pod, especially for newbs.

[8/2022] It seems I was wrong or they were wrong but all of season 5 is hosted by coach Weasel, Adam Jones, who has a rather severe blue-collar UK approach and an equally severe accent. Hard to want to listen to him compared to other hosts, but he is a great influence on the NL25 crowd and can get you there. [5/23] Season six looks over and will likely go on as long as James does. Tons, TONS of content for low-stakes players.

[3/24] Looks more focused on subscribers, not sure when that happened. Many episodes are free.

Rating: Q10cc

While a good portion of it is remainder pile stuff, including some interviews that have been better covered elsewhere, the overall atmosphere is cordial and listenable, with a satisfyingly brisk conversational pace and no sense of hustle. More importantly, Steve has a developed vision and therefore his pod has a direction: he’s trying to completely overhaul his game: the podcast has become the documentation of his effort to gather information. At the same time he is refocused on specifically serving recreational players and in fact will be launching some sort of membership community in October 2019.

Interesting, that. It’s a fine line of camaraderie and marketing, and the sheep are going to be shorn by a lot of incomplete coaching, as a lot of them have already appeared on this pod. Nevertheless, this new story-line raises the bar for what could be just another forgotten drip of poker media and dubious strat output. Having played the typical reactive style that is neither here nor there (he mistakenly calls it “exploitative” whereas exploitation is a technical word measuring profitable distance from the optimal), Steve goes on something of a Listening Tour, recording the thoughts of many stronger players and editing them into whole series of advice. There are many high points for this show, including bringing on podcast pope Brokos, Grid star Shahade, and even troll pin-cushion Matt Berkey for multiple shots. Steve’s not afraid to interview pariah Alec Torelli, which I think is a good choice, as some of the animus toward this player is fair but is certainly also just the poker chicklets clucking along with Rooster Doug. Sky Matsuhashi comes on to make a predictable hash out of a BU vs BB analysis. The podcast moves over time toward Steve’s improvement, including a promising GTO vs Exploitative teaser that I decide to check out: a relevant detail is that Steve starts with 50 bb work, so we can assume Steve is looking at tournament play for the long haul. This is a bigger hint than even the title of the pod, as the Rec Poker Podcast really has its most natural place on a low-stakes tourney grinder’s table. Like the baby sea turtles on the beach, some will survive. [9/2021] I check in with episode 308 for some awkwardness and way too many guests, but they seem to be doing some reasonable strat work in the “Poker Out Loud” vein. [5/23] Seems to have joined the Cardplayer Lifestyle publishing group.

[1/24] A couple episodes confirm the basic problem with the premise: people who don’t know what they are doing can’t really help each other that much. One of the hosts, Tyler, I think, is head and shoulders over the others, who give clearly poor advice. Rating: Three card protectors.

While the pod sounds promising, the stock photo logo of a tourney ass trying to toss his aces off the table advertises more median fare. however, a quick first listen reveals a clear-voiced, energetic host with a tournament background and big potential for a good pod. He’s a family man now and grinding cash. Seems like a good pod for live cash players wanting some company in their sordid, passionate pursuit. [3/2022] Douche chills when Reid calls his opponent “competent,” one of the great egomaniacal cop-outs poker players love. Very short, energetically pedantic pods, as if he is a parent used to having no time or influenced by vlogs rather than pods. Because of this, we don’t really get to know Sammy, though I suspect this will change if he keeps the content up. We, we, we: Sammy bombards us with forum patter; poker has a pronoun problem. Humorously, when Sammy gets upset, it’s not fuck us. No, leading turn after calling the flop bet as your range equity declines does not make any sense; fuck someone, anyway. In episode three Sammy explains his strategy is derived from his strategy before muddling isolation and polarization, which of course, are overlapping magisteria. “We don’t deal in absolutes in poker,” he explains, right after telling us a bet would fold out someone’s “entire range” (and of course, it doesn’t): Sammy is funny in his messy enthusiasm. Great bluff story. [7/2022] Continuous improvement from a likeable host, this one is going to grow. [11/2022] To my surprise, Reid is still at it, with more enthusiasm than ever. Maybe the extra-short (for a pod) formula is good in a Tik-Tok world, and certainly the cheery-cum-Reading Rainbow synth add to the experience. “Allow myself to congratulate myself,” the English language can’t contain Sammy’s excitement, which even covers up his lack of empathy for others: Sammy is a true child of the game. [5/23] Still going strong, proof that passion matters – this is a good podcast for younger listeners and the strategy minded. [7/23] WSOP reviews up next.

[7/2025] Back after a long absence for some WSOP stuff. Rating: 88

Chris Brewer episode is a nightmare, the nervous host cautiously interjecting dull bio questions while his guest rambles uncontained in bizarre, near lisping Anglo colonial. (Most articles say he is from San Antonio, a former English penal colony no doubt.) Alderman thinks the idea of class and status in the U.S. originated during the Reagan administration; after hearing this, I expect and even hope for more strange, fun stuff. No form or storyline or even coherent segues; at first this seems bad but in fact Alderman’s big gift turns out to be leaving space for his guests to fill the air with flow of consciousness.

In fact, Alderman is everyone’s friend. “It’s always great to see him” he claims about one of his friend guests. “It feels tangible, the network that you have,” thus does the “male loneliness” epidemic shows up. Peleg, as sweet and retiring and modest a man as you will find in poker, is a “dark wizard,” which is such a cartoon observation you are reminded just how disjointed many men really are.

Meanwhile, somehow beloved and charismatic personality Joey Ingram, who has floated through poker and content, complains about how he is treated and suggests A.I. is a great tool to fight back with negative language; Alderman is good at eliciting such weirdness and never feels the need to follow up, Ed Wood style. This is in part because Alderman is a listener and makes his guests feel good. His staidness, his interest in utterly surface social interaction, catch words, and finger snapping social media projection create an uncritical portal into the high stakes poker hivemind. As in the anime meme, is this Balance? “Surround yourself with good people,” Alderman tells us, straight from Reagan, no doubt.

1/26 Patrick Howard comes on and claims this is the only podcast he really watches, so there’s that. Alderman seems to present very earnestly, even nervously, which works for many listeners, I’d imagine. The two talk exploits. Jared pitches a meditation group. Lots of industry gossip. MTTs and the poker dream. Important moment where Howard points out the inconsistencies players have in their attitudes toward their opponents. Poker is a science and a cult at once, and Jared is an enthusiastic pitchman for it.

While Joey has a knack for clowning around, for coming up with clumsy questions and bumbling when a serious guest comes on, the pure poker pull of his circle of high stakes beasts and legends, combined with his persistence, enthusiasm and ridiculous brosonality, makes for fun if meandering listening. Joey is the baby in the sun for poker youth. His carnival barking hypnotizes his audience and covers up a lot; nothing has changed in thousands of years of human culture. Moreover, he’s really quite the businessman and entertainer: where the act begins and the real Joey ends is not actually as clear as one might think – pretty clever to have no sleeves and still have something hidden there.

Interesting to hear his hints of fury at the GPI on the Chip Race Pod, somewhat ironically, regarding their oblivious dismissal of The Second Hardest Working Man in Poker Media. No matter, he has a direct line to Doug Polk, one of the sharper and (sometimes) more fair observers in the scene; an ace in the hole for Joey, and a clearly profitable relationship between two young old hands with a lot more fans than illusions. [8/2021] Definitely slowed down and out of the top ten for frequency reasons, will leave it in “the mix” out of respect for the great broadcaster. [5/2022] Joey returns as the opportunity arises to trade on his absurd reputation as an investigator, and in really hard fashion. This will, unfortunately, backfire eventually, but for now, enjoy the absurdity and hilarious self-promotional lessons of a modern-day gossip columnist. [11/2022] More of a streamer and gossip-monger for poker’s various scandals [read: situation normal] at this point. The credit Joey has earned has helped gloss over the very strange Norman Chad incident, wherein he seemed too drugged to understand why his “joke” was not really taken as a joke. Streamer madness, as they don’t say.

Slowed greatly in pace. Last pod was an infomerical for a product he was clearly paid for. Rating: Three Shout-outs

Over the course of a few episodes, incomplete bet sizing reasoning, misunderstanding of 3b incentives and therefore continuing ranges, along with a general lack of nuance leads to some questionable recommendations. All this is puzzling considering the prestige and weight JLil throws around the learning community. Little’s focus on value betting as the lens through which strategy traverses does lead to some good outcomes, but is only half a battle-plan. In one episode, for instance, he praises a very lucky result which was derived not from the strategy but from misunderstanding the villain in the hand, a logic bender which missed the real educational opportunity. This misleading pedagogy from a reputable commentator and accepted expert probably isn’t apparent to the untrained eye, but is the sort of stuff that helps keep the games good by confusing low-stakes regs. [12/2021] Jonathan’s willingness to grab onto whatever seems to sell, including a poker version of Comedians in Cars, an utterly shite NFT regurgitation, and of course his endless and overpraised content, all while blurbling his catch phrases of “helping people” and “adding value” make him and pokercoaching.com the Walmart of poker training. In one podcast, he urges you to check a chart while playing live; there is nothing he is not willing to make slightly worse in exchange for his own marginal gain. It should come as no surprise he’s willing to sling Breinfuel, the latest nutritional beverage scam. [3/2022] Episode on preflop ranges doesn’t explain correctly why ranges are what they are, but leans on the pot size; interesting, but incomplete. Contrary to what he says, it is also not a problem if you get three-bet if you have the range to deal with it – in fact, you want your opponents to be aggressive against you if you have the right strategy, as now you capture their inefficient money more often – that’s theory in action, not confidently sharing the latest chart, ready to be right all over again once that chart is proven wrong. And 100 bbs is “deepstacked,” mkay? Comically, the podcast doesn’t even get an edit, and he leaves the air dead while he takes a call; my irritation with him can’t last if he is this much of a clown at heart: who can listen to this stuff? That shitreg who seat changes to your left, of course. [4/2022] Little reviews the Rampage vs Nik suicide bluff. I desperately want to be a fair reviewer and be forced to amend my comments above, but of course Jlil’s endless poor taste in everything resurfaces immediately, including the superficial, incredibly dumb phrase that he “doesn’t mind” a choice made by Nik. (You’d better have the strategic authority of Doug Polk or Sauce to you say stuff like this.) If you deign to accept someone’s lesser choice, pray tell, O seigneur, what would you prefer, in your wisdom? Jlil, who got crushed by his own poor play in the Pokergo cash game I last saw him in, doesn’t say. In fact, that’s not a coincidence, as the podcast abruptly ends without analysis: what’s happening is that he is really just recycling content from Hustler to his advantage. It’s a business plan and a lifestyle. In fact, I think I can make my peace with Little by understanding him better: he is not so much a poker authority as he is a sort of poker influencer, a myspace god pushing fast-food for poker’s styrofoam eaters. Low, low prices. Rating: A3o

The pod lengths themselves are also short and sweet: clearly Sky is the master of his audience. His newly announced goal, after years of podcasting and coaching, is to create a top-tier training site. The problem is, I’m not entirely sure he’s up to it, as this podcast is clearly best for novices and weekend warriors seeking quick fixes. The low-level of nuance and absence of holistic strategy (consider alone just the number of Tips and Tricks and Lists) is not really very “smart,” and his plan of delivering thirty second tickles a la Jonathan Little is one of the worst ways of communicating a game of infinite possibility. We hear a lot about “Bread and Butter” situations rather than analyzing what the overall strategy might be, or really why anything actually happens in poker. When confronted with a sizing question, he urges the listener to experiment with how much villains are willing to call, rather than building from theory and establishing a thorough foundation of knowledge for future play; in this respect, Matsuhashi bookends the many vloggers currently creating a new wave of fish by demonstrating how to play and think in poker’s most primitive mode. In a key episode on Miller’s Poker’s 1%, Matsuhashi perpetuates myths about the book which damage the listener, including confusing GTO with frequencies. Conversely, and to his great credit, Sky grasps the importance of the Events chapter.  On the previous episode, Sky gushes over what are some basically horrifying quotations from Alex Fitzgerald’s latest pamphlet. For one of his best episodes that I listened to, Sky bizarrely reads an effective article from Upswing, upping the value of the pod, I suppose. As I go deeper, it turns out Sky regularly recycles content from others, giving them full credit, of course… but still. Ironically, Sky is a man of standards and rules himself, offering unimpeachable bankroll advice and probably a lot of good things I don’t have time to discover, but this over-simplified study train just leads to being railroaded by better players and necessitating deconstruction by a better coach or training site before you move up to any significant stake. I’m experiencing deja vu, however: maybe the secret is that what Matuhashi is doing is just the way it has to be – I’ve argued this myself. In any case, Sky is INCREDIBLY EXCITED to INFINITE AND BEYOND. In sum, this is a practical, decent hodgepodge of thoughts that won’t eat up your day – great for your uncle who sucks at poker and who will never, ever really change, but probably not so much for the wayward contrarian who found this obscure site in the search for top poker podcasts. Ganbatte! Rating: Q9o

Episode two is mostly milquetoast AI concerns – guessing at what is probable from what industry staff think, ok – until the second half, which kicks off with an long and retarded advertisement from T-mobile that argues getting away from white clothes at Wimbledon is somehow brave progress – this is the sort of low-tier stuff we’re celebrating. Then we get to elections, which is Nate’s forte and we at least get a potentially interesting take on pulling Biden later in the election than other talking heads recommend. As the anal sex specialist said, it gets better. Next, Malcolm Gladwell appears in another ad, after some neutered bass notes, to tell us that coming up with new things requires being open to new things. Where’s the Seinfeld riff? We’re all getting old, is what this podcast is telling us, underneath the forced chatter, because it was targeted at us. The kids don’t know about this pod because they don’t watch this channel. Did you know the they call AI art “boomer art?” – what a funny slap of well-done irony. There is hope, in other words, but it’s not here, in the podcast about nothing. Bow-chka-bow-bow-brr-derp-a-derm.

Episode 3 brings us more WSOP chatter – I like how they are committed to normalizing poker as conversation for the urban overachiever audience, even if it is just run-of-the-mill performance hackery. However, Nate does have the courage to do what he didn’t last time – almost point out the truth of how much tournament players lose. Maria advises strict BR management – not a shock but is that all the RB partners can come up with? Where’s the leverage and the staking and the hustling? Instead, more boomer-think. Nate: “You have to take risks!” Maria: “Work on mental game.” Fair enough. They’ve already registered themselves and their support dogs for their poker vacation: see you there. More Malcolm Gladwell, mincing his way through the extraordinary opportunities T-Mobile is offering you – he’s becoming humorous at least. More compellingly, Maria and Nate take on crypto this episode, and have a chance to talk about actual risk and what drives crypto profits – are we speculating or are we storing value? The coming crash will tell you. Instead, we’re celebrating “the chance to participate” with ETFs. I want more and better from these two, who demand and get so much attention and respect. A slight hint of Nate’s expertise when he seems to have an actual sense of where crypto falls on the slate of important issues, and Maria closes the election segment admitting it influences everything – so I know they can do it if they focus. And then it happens, a nice segment on airline regulations. Maria provides an argument for what drives the Karen response, “hedonistic value,” to upsetting customer service moments and Nate gives us some game theory. Their best episode yet.

Two episodes on Biden as Maria the Democrat agonizes over the Situation. In an episode with Jen Shahade, Maria almost goes all the way in getting Shahade to say poker is behind chess in its developmental stage, which would be a great insight. The podcast is settling in, even improving, but the hilarity of Malcolm Gladwell’s quavering bunny voice and his next sales pitch grows as well. This is Gen X centrist radio and can help us laugh at ourselves.

In our next episode our team of panicky centrists – their speaking pace increases one more degree- continue to take on the Biden question. Bizarrely, Silver calls the political class “nits” in a strange stretch of the word and their characteristics. Are these bourgeois success stories, selling us Malcolm Gladwell and Ted Talks and milquetoast feminism and weak-case game theory, supposed to be the loose players? What is really in the minds, past the easy analysis, of these two? Getting to know your hosts can be fascinating. Nate floats the impossible Kamala answer, not quite ready to accept that she is a walking PR disaster on an already Bideneseque scale, a kind of Manchurian clown. Maria is forced to reckon with the weird “but Biden is a good man” plank, almost coming to the point of who is really making the decisions and the contradiction of this peculiar and untrue argument of the ongoing campaign. Of course, all of this here and in the press is rather silly, given a democracy that can’t handle a bad president was never worth saving in he first place. Hysteria rules the liberals who were once the heart of the American revolution. Strong episode but one where the two seem to be trapped in a bunker while the real world outside rages and explodes.

Then back to the worst of RB. The Vance episode brings us Maria at her most hysterical, suggesting the unpopular presidential candidate is a “plant” and much like “Putin” which is “scary.” The empty accusation that someone “seeks power” when by definition all pols seek power. Worse, the common suggestion that our enemy has “no center” and is essentially not human or “moral.” Hyperventilating as she literally runs out of air at the end of one screed, she dryly (to the point of almost choking) laughs at her own comments, worrying the listener, yet it is this excitement combined with its breathless assumption that she is obviously right which creates her particular radio personality and sound; she is not someone who has been told she is wrong much in her life.  Nate agrees with her too much for this to be a successful cocktail but I’m sure they can sit together for an hour at a time: these two are mixers in search of a liquor. Nate disappears for much of this episode, whereas on their best episodes he has more presence and either complements her breathlessness with doubt or stands her down with knowledge and crossfire, as in the sports conversations. Humorously, Maria admits she has always been declined as a potential juror – easy to see why. (Just imagine listening to her grandstanding on some yes or no matter.) Still, when they talk about poker and their personal lives the pair are much more likeable. Moving the rating up despite this episode, because whatever you think of them, the podcasts are meaty and move quickly at the same time. I’m beginning to think RB has legs and a future.

Realist liberal and Brokos favorite Matt Glassman is on next; we’re going to do a lot of centrism here at Risky Business. Glassman is very good at describing how and why power accumulates in D.C. but is not a particularly “moral” or ideological voice; if only Maria was on this episode to not realize this. Glassman is highly attuned to the identity hostage taking that rules contemporary power politics and has things to say for those who want to understand America’s most populus political movement.

Kamala episode brings out Maria at her most rabid, literally forbidding Nate from disagreeing with her on an imaginary penalty for being a woman or minority in politics. No one really loves democracy and the appetites and hatreds of the hoi polloi, alas. She breathlessly advises censorship on the internet to solve ugly memes. Risky Business is getting hard to listen to.

Just as we settle into the long term for this podcast and accept its limitations, the two play imaginary musical chairs for an interview about Nate’s new book. Maria’s first question is about the number of women represented in it, which would be fine and tolerable at this point, but then I remember the name of the podcast, which has something to do with evaluating risk. “Should I leave my partner?” is uttered, in one of those “says too little or too much” evaluations that cretinous talking heads excel at. Somehow, I know they will bring up the sanctimoniously hated Elon Musk and it happens! Then, Malcolm goes on forever in a singsong chime of boomer aspirationalism during a break: all is comedy. “I hate squirrels” Maria tells us. Edmund Wilson once described the pleasure of crushing a kitten – there is something in these urbane middleton voices that is simply aesthetically repulsive. As Nate goes into the book more and more, the interview evens out and even makes the book appealing. Then, more Malcolm: sigh.

Ridiculous and meaty solo interview again, this time with Brian Koppelman of Rounders and Billions fame. Somehow Maria doesn’t know essential things about him but claims to know him well. He mitigates risk by having a partnership but she calls it a risk: everything is anything, why not? Ted Talk coming. A lot of breathless agreement. Maria laments some non-existent unfairness she suffers, but it is never defined why anything is unfair; Koppelman even has to point out to her that her spot at the NYer literally ensures her success moving forward. If a book is disliked, was that unfair? Does she really believe one failure will cast her out of the business? Who has ever had only successes? (I sometimes feel like no one can be possibly listening to this stuff, given how empty it all is, that I am the only one and it is a torment.) The circle jerk of insincerity and survivorship toasts among cosmopolitans is a bit funny from the outside. I’m sure at a cool lower westside bar it is more natural. All that said, Koppelman suddenly sounds very real and wry when he gives a nasally, ironic “thank you” to her congratulations on success. All the bullshit falls away, if only for a second, here at Risky Business. Risk, it turns out, is actually painful and fearful and there are winners and losers. But back to Malcolm and his moving, warm and wonderful podcast.

I come back wearily, post-election, to hear what sort of pent-up issues Maria will have and whether or not Nate will satisfy her with his explanations. (This rubric has developed rather naturally over the year.) True to expectation, she calls all the Trump voters cultists and runs out of breath with a rambling incoherence on people hating women and the democratic party apparently making a mistake running their Vice-President. She says “she hopes she is not right” but of course does not mean that, as she is practically high on her reaction. Understanding the world and people and elections, if we can’t get it here on Risky Business, is not going to happen much anywhere, not for now, it seems. Nate, meanwhile, is especially scared of her on this episode, even having voted for Harris, and doesn’t really help soothe Maria except in the sense that there are probably a lot of relationships like this. Maria never even stops to question her precepts in trying to understand the election and Nate the work-husband doesn’t have the energy or backbone to critique her ideas other than meander and hedge over a few quibbles: sound familiar? It’s a pattern in life and one now playing out in the post-election social media streets. Ironically, she admonishes pundits for following their gut instincts, when that is what she leaned on just moments before. Ultimately, we might want a more circumspect and thoughtful pair of podcasters, but as Andrew Barber, another aspiring commentator-type in poker suggested, appreciate what they give you. Okay.

Another Odd-couple episode opens December 2024. These are the partners who call their lovers “partners.” Maria admonishes Nate for not having TSA precheck when he suffers through Clear: the perks of importance should not be ignored. She recommends “eating light” on the plane as if you have an option for surf and turf with cheese casserole: duplicate the habits of the rich. If you’ve seen the dull presentations that Maria is paid to dump on audiences across the country, you realize there is a class of thinner, sharper legitimacy consultant that is the counterpart and reprover of the wide-butted bureaucrat in your home, office, or government department. Nate does “walking” trying to find “cuisine” but takes an Uber to get there first. This, at heart, is why she slightly despises him and drums him with laughter each episode: he is still somehow a slob. “Pick up a good book and get lost in it”: Maria speaks in business-class tongues, reminds us she has a doctorate twice but refuses to p-hack. This is also America, as the dull bitune goes, now applaud. A real “hate-listen,” these two, but they are our hate-listen.

Dec 5 episode features a new low in terms of political understanding, as the hosts somehow think Biden – yes the Biden who has tried to subvert the constitution to better pander, while bluffing his way through the Palestinian elimination war – is somehow the protector of democracy. Biden is nothing less than the protector of the status quo, the chief of the uniparty, the “decent” man ready to stride the center to wherever inertia takes it. On the other hand, our contemporary Supreme Court, which has delimited powers and enforced constitutional federalism in a series of clear and nuanced rulings, goes unrecognized as the most effective institution of U.S. government and salve of the republic, yet you don’t even have to guess what Maria and Nate’s opinion would be on that irony. Maria pulls her “you can’t argue with me” move again when the subject gets difficult, and Nate is too soft to stand up for himself. Really weak stuff. On the other hand, Maria proves to be a master gift artist in a series of recommendations for the holidays.

[2025] As the new year begins, several podcasts touch on the new regime. Nate, who seems to have been bullied into voting by Maria and her ilk, tries to lessen the effect and danger and vision of Trump. Maria, essentially a hysterical centrist, is correctly more worried by Trump 2.0, as he has learned (a little). Her dry, insincere laugh has never held back more bile, and while she seems like she could end Nate with her thumb, I think she has grown fond of his clever vacillations and will allow him to exist. What insights do they have at this point? Not much into themselves, anyway. For instance, Maria leads the discussion by comparing herself and her fellow liberals to teachers who are not at recess: they will never, ever understand this country. On point, suddenly she believes in the constitution, in order to combat the dropship of EOs; this after supporting the Biden/Harris illegality show. Risky Business podcast is a soap opera for east coast milquetoast mind-melders, so I wish I could stop listening, but at least I realize why I can’t: people believe this stuff and want to be these people, and I (and you) might need to know what they are pushing. I wonder though: if you listen, you notice Nate doesn’t even like what comes out of his own mouth. (“The dems are the expert class…? Is that right? Someone tell me.” Maria: silence, watches, considers devouring the small male.) Can he finally come out of his hibernating safety torpor? He even recognizes that coverage of the SCOTUS – which has clearly emerged as the most professional and actually expert branch of government – needs to be better. Of course, Maria, meanwhile, refuses to even grasp the difference between rights and rulings. “Focus” he says, and then Maria, who is the outraged, complains about the “outrage media.” Alas, there is no expert class, there are no hegemons, there are no masters. There is only us and our struggle. They are us, and so we naturally hate them. These two babble around this unnoticed giant column of marble in the room, advising on some light “risks” that their financial advisors and insurance agents would approve. Nate admits he failed his driver’s test; what is milk, 20$ a gallon? Podcaster, heal thyself.

June brings an episode where the two hosts summarize Elon’s tenure and look at the future of democracy in the U.S. While they don’t seem to understand the revolutionary nature of Trump or his handyman Elon, they are right that he was not particularly effective. Maria wants the country’s government to look more Euro, but they do touch on the real problem of congress being weak. She is probably in the right: if the pathetic parties were further weakened, they would be in return strengthened by some real competition. The market, as always, works. Then Nate gives us some dumb stuff on AI helping. JFC.

Infuriatingly stupid episode in August where the two seem to know little about gerrymandering and its modern history, especially in Texas. Nate floats the word “authoritarianism” which, like gentrification or colonialism, is a favorite among midwits. All authorities are authoritarian; the question is legality and feasibility. He redeems himself by pointing out the flaws in a potential amendment against the practice, and Maria for once, sees the problem. Then she goes back to game theory, which she continually invokes and flunks. It’s just another cool word for her. The game theory has been in place forever: the republicans have just taken the latest turn in a state the democrats already gerrymandered. “This isn’t healthy” she says when equilibrium and the fight for it is the only health available to us. Meanwhile, the absurdity of the VRA promoting classes of voters gets no mention but instead is appealed to as if it were in the Bill of Rights. Weak stuff.

In September RB takes on the “masculinity crisis,” and they completely miss the mark, again. Maria even brings up the imaginary pay gap. Yet the two puppet out the crisis quite well. Maria literally says, “I’ll let you start” then turns the question into one about women. She does the meme, as they say, inserting herself into the picture of the object discussed. Hard to listen to this one. The crisis, of course, extends especially deep into the younger generations, who are not living well, not having relationships, and unable to challenge, manfully, the future and take what they need. Nate can barely push back, embarrassingly afraid of his controlling partner.

[10/2025] Poker episode. “One of my big edges is I’m a psychologist.” Must help in all those 9 bb spots. Maria calls out Phil Ivey for a suspicious request; no respect for the hustle but more bloviating midwit radio instead. Nate somehow calls out others for their “paint by numbers” decisions; it turns out he is Phil Ivey, too. Then Nate discards his crushing creativity and praises his “soft skills.” Soft skills, of course, are the key to the 30 bb conundrum. Internal rhythm garbage is promulgated: people adjust to what they need to do, we are not slaves to the moon, nor would we have survived so long if an early rise caused us to fail. Endless tips and tricks under the doughty rubric of “science.” Their enthusiasm is the pair’s main redeeming, and remaining, quality. Their surety of their opinions is not.

November brings us Maria’s most clear-headed episode in a long time. She jumps in to help Nate bumble through his poker analogies but more importantly, grasps much of the Democratic party’s election and shutdown dramas. She knows that Mamdani is interesting but needs to deliver on more than smiles. If she had figured out why the dems actually did give up, I’d have been truly impressed. That we can’t actually just play games with the government forever, and that it took principle to give in – well, partisans might not like that one.

The year ends strong again with a surprisingly clear-headed take on national happiness levels. The pair of hosts sound a touch tired and that may help produce their best and most honest state. “Inequality” as a root cause of anything, as if variance is the cause of unhappiness, is of course a stretch, but it’s Maria who straightens out the issue. What world am I in? Great ending to the year.

Rating: A9o.

Even more good news: Brad focuses on a variety of successful poker players, not just elephants like Berkey and Maurice Hawkins, but some lesser-known names as well. The [2020] intro is goofy and tiresome, and hints at some issues to come. Podcasters seem to think they need to go over the biography of players who everyone already knows about, and certainly the Berkey episode is essentially a rerun.  Brad never ran into a cliche he didn’t like, in one sentence promising that Maurice pulls no punches, shoots from the hip, and that what you see is what will get from Goldfingers. (Of course this means what you’ll get from this person is anything but.) Nevertheless, Brad is upbeat and professional, and should give those lesser-knowns coverage.

As the podcast develops a strong history, the parallel concern is the usual retreads, including even Joe Stapleton, who is only chasing greatness in attention. This perhaps natural pandering to the same voices is good publicity for poker podcasts short-term, but in the end adds less to the conversation than one might imagine. The Nick Howard episode is excellent, but that’s because of Nick Howard, who could philosophize over which shoe is tied first.  Nevertheless, I would be hopeful for this hard-working and clear-headed host, who is in the midst of churning out these long-form interviews at a heroic rate. [9/20] Brad has hit podcasting big time, with 2+2 promotion and a successful poker book bracket challenge gathering attention. He’s also fully integrated NH into the pod. [2/2021] This has become one of the biggest pods, thanks to Brad’s relentlessness. Lots of awful “greatness” groans but he’s a success bomb now. It’s also worth noting [7/21] that he finally abandoned the awful intro.  The pod suddenly sounds very professional, other than that poorly aging “tireless ambassadors of the game” line, which is pure fanboy illiteracy in a predatory industry: no one is working on your behalf, citoyen, there’s only knowing what is under the rock or not. (Why is the felt “green,” clearly Brad hasn’t been out to play in a while.) Strategy content continues to improve, and “Tactical Tuesdays” is an interesting sub-listen.

[3/2022] Some speculation on somewhat misnamed Philosophical Fridays now; philosophy would be getting to the bottom of all those prescriptions and opinions, but really, this is better stuff than most client-call pods. Bringing on Berkey for a chat on entertainment in is an instant upgrade. He points out the problem of the anonymity of the high-stakes scene, but again, as Joan Rivers summarized, these people have no last names, and that is the hard and timeless truth told by the greater truthteller. (in other words, it isn’t just that anonymity is a problem, it is a condition.) Brad hits the nail on the head: poker can’t simultaneously be a mind game and a rodeo. Stop trying to market the unmarketable when it’s the mystery itself that is the appeal. DGAF follows with some reflections on where he’s at, but it’s a bit of a let-down as Brad isn’t really up to challenging Billy at key points, including the absurd, self-congratulating idea that other people “hate young women” – it’s amusing we have the brass to even let these words escape our lips, such is the compulsory power of the zeitgeist. The actual reason people rag on her and similar is interesting – now that would be a philosophical Friday worth the name. Nevertheless, when they move to poker strategy, Brad is back in his saddle. Next, there are no coincidences: In potential breakthrough conversation with Paulina Loeliger aka the poker bunny, Brad at first sounds as awkward and ill-matched as an interlocuter as you’d expect, but curiously, by throwing airballs and parental soothing at all the important targets, he allows Paulina to stumble through the interview authentically. A bewildered father-daughter dynamic develops and seems to suit both of them in its familial discomfort. However, Brad the dad can’t help her with the hospital protocol, which was actually normal and purposeful, or really, address any of her misconceptions. This leaves the conversation trapped in her involutions. Interrogating what the word “optimal” means to her was the way in – she invokes it religiously and signals an escape – but somehow it goes over the ears of our lead wolf. The Dara thing goes uninterrogated and even bolstered; Dad wants to be supportive. Clearly this is not his jam: the encounter with live, broken humanity shakes our suburban hero, but in fact Brad is good on his feet, and realizes he needs to soothe her in order to calm himself. As the show closes, his second half strategy works until a final moment of awful, shattering irony. Brad asks her his canned question about a book to share (itself a comical sub-moment of incompetence, what exactly would you expect from this poor soul in the midst of its struggle? “Oh yeah, I’m big on Dale Carnegie and Taleb.”). Somehow she responds, almost miraculously, summoning The Kite Runner. Paulina, self-alienated, can’t quite remember what it is about or why she liked it; meanwhile, Brad, who basically knows nothing, hasn’t a clue what it’s about, either. This is brutal to tears: in The Kite Runner, a vulnerable, lower-class boy is sexually abused, and the main character abandons him. Guilt and pain and consequences and remaking a future- it’s the sharp, sad echo of Paulina’s story.

Potentially important cheating episode; in part important because poker influencers like Brad need to speak out. Brad makes a nice observation of the arms race being its own incentive, and essentially creating a necessity to cheat. Unfortunately, Duncan can’t follow it up, and moves on to another idea. They repeat this process, not having a dialogue while still talking at each other: the mind starts to wander. “Philosophy” is kind of a bad word for the field in general, oddly; it’s really inquiry that gets to the point; loving wisdom isn’t enough. That’s relevant because, while these two like talking and want to claim credit for an in-depth conversation as part of selling poker ed, they spend the first thirty minutes not getting to the bottom of anything..  Then, at a key point, Duncan settles on one of the only real answers to the situation. It’s extreme but shows that he grasps the issue. It almost again goes uninterrogated by Brad, but this time Duncan forces him to confront the idea by pointing out a consequence. Brad needs to slow down and listen. It’s not just him: all podcasters need an outline or an agenda to organize and develop ideas; this episode was a hurried chaos and obscured the best qualities of the two: Brad’s pragmatic simplicity and Duncan’s abstractions. [7/2022] Promising influencers episode should be interesting, as Brad is one, and he starts out by correctly recognizing that they are “human.” The episode does get better as they reluctantly name their actual target, Doug Polk, who is, indeed, human, all too human. More importantly, so are his greedy “victims,” although the “philosophical” duo struggle to say the quiet part out loud: all the interesting tech explanations and codewords help ease their burden. (Sorry, guys, good and evil are as old as humanity, no need to embarrass yourselves.) As for the subject matter, Brad professes to be split on “adding value,” in creepy Jlil wording, and “not hurting” people, whereas Duncan is a realist and a free marketeer armed with some Talebisms. Brad has helped many win and could be more vigorous in his self-belief; something is holding him back – now that would be worthy listening, but he is not really much of a delver. When he brings up the intention of the influencers, he hits almost on the point: of course businesses “add value,” the question is always how and how much. Duncan, in almost amusing marginal value nihilism, happily does not care: he is the principled one and scrubs down Brad’s hesitations. The other shoe, of course, is that principles are harsh. I’m glad Duncan finally gets into Ferguson and politics, rescuing the show from its own lack of rigor. It’s hard for me to love this podcast as it consistently overpromises and underdelivers, but it also tries hard; maybe that is what chasing greatness really means. Congrats to Brad. [11/2022] Brad realizes libraries still exist. Hosts giggle through an episode with a bomb pot, utterly lost on unfamiliar terrain. Today’s data-driven player is not a man for the trenches.

11/2023 I get a chance to catch up with some strategy episodes and they are very good. Things have changed a little: Brad is more assertive and confident, correcting his students without hesitation.

5/25 Surprisingly, no content for a while. Might be waning but on account of Brad’s business, I can’t imagine it ending. Not sure what is going on. Rating: 77 88

Overall, the strength of this podcast are its harmless atmosphere, energy and guest handling. Joe, unlike in his day job, allows them to speak at length, showing some chops we didn’t know he had. Despite some reliance on the podcast carousel usual suspects, Joe and James occasionally pull significantly interesting ones, so picking your episode then skipping the filler at the beginning is a good way to approach PIYE. Of late, Joe either has developed a perpetual cold or is moving into a sort of Jimmy Durante phase: could be an improvement, I’m not sure. James Hartigan magnifies the presence of Stapleton and aids nimbly in the interviews. He’s such a good straight man, with so little discernible personality, I would not entirely be surprised if he lived a second life as an MI5 agent. No one can hold back Joe from Joe in the end, however: at least one show ends with a novelty quiz so inane the guest can be heard squirming to get away. (Hartigan, Stockholmed long ago, cannot help Joe’s victim.) So, if you need more light conversation and pure groanage in your life, modest opinions stated as if they are revelatory, and just love big poker personalities being put to easy questions, here’s the natural pod for you. [1/2022/ Still running, and nominated for the GPI. [2/2022] PIY wins the 2021 GPI for best podcast, and while I’ve been skipping it for obvious reasons, time to try again. One thing I didn’t pay attention to the first time around is that it really is a Poker Stars creature. The Casino Royale episode is upbeat, droll, and reveals some effort; I suppose this might have to be a top ten podcast to celebrate their longevity and overall high quality.

[3/2022] Brokos is on, with the spin of improving Joe’s game. Stapes whines about running bad, brags about bluffing and generally unmasks his real bewilderment at even the most basic poker concepts, all while Andrew stays patient and reminds the patient to breathe. Good stuff, energetic and fun. [11/2022] I catch an episode where Maria Ho stakes Joe and they review his hands. It’s no big deal, but he can barely play. It’s just amazing how much info they feed him so that he can pretend to do commentary. Funny or die, I guess. As the year closes, more strategy with Joe is promised. It’s a great and funny new subplot for a solid podcast, if not for Maria’s roll. [5/23] Joe always has a good eye (and ear) for movies, nice take on Air. Kind of a poker-peripheral, jibber-jabber junket, this pod.

12/25 looks over but I have a hard time believing it. It seems likely they are changing the show or what they are doing.

Rating: Two puns.

I’ve featured the Apple podcasts link, but this is also a video channel on Youtube. His odd couple friendship with Phil Hellmuth is good listening; really, anything this guy does is good, it seems, even if he rubs some the wrong way here and there. Expect Doug to dominate the poker show market, for whatever that’s worth. [1/2022] His purchase of a card house in Austin with the twins will have an interesting effect on his show, I’d imagine. He’s miffed at being passed over by the GPI for awards, but really, his timing is a bit off and he’s actually too much of a thing for the award: you don’t reward the big dog for barking loudest. [3/2022] In listening to the latest episode, it remains striking how the mass audience hivemind reaction gets essentially everything wrong – imagine thinking you should rely on them for more important issues. Polk is brazen but almost uncomfortably objective; even Berkey, armed with a very high intelligence, misses this when complaining that Doug is too “critical.” This unusual quality of clarity must have helped Polk, who can otherwise present as just another dipshit bro, see the matrix of poker strategy itself, a matrix that is hidden in plain sight from the noxious and combative community overall. Still, he has his vendettas and preferences – think of his goofy attacks here and there, including the embarrassing whining about Berkey breaking a high stakes game – as the top twenty saga reveals, blurring the lens. [6/22] I’m lowering the score just on principle as he now has to defend whatever coin scammery he is unfortunately involved in after high-roading everyone to death forever. Still, if you bought in, you’re just as responsible. Brane Fuel your way out of that. [5/23] I’ve commented on Doug’s blow-up with Charlie, Fernando and the rest in other spots. No matter what you say or think, he remains a fixture and a smart poker and poker culture commentator. Not everyone can be nice.

[3/24] Quiet for a long time, but no way Doug can stay that way. May be just more of a YouTube thing than a podcast now. Rating: AJo

Find him on his channel, he’s done with the pod.

For the vast majority of players, the delusion that they have some Platonic A-game within, like the hidden six pack or 23-inch waist, is a useful illusion for players and the businesspeople who cater to this illusion – including casinos, hack poker coaches, and the entire industry of opportunists. (I’m not asking you to feel bad for the players, just to understand the difference between a theft and a grift). Tilt is the bewildered reaction of the mind when it cannot grasp a sudden and injurious event – yet instead of learning about the event, many travel down the path of calming or strengthening their nerves; in other words, dodging the problem. (Tendler, the true legend of this field, has the more powerful “inchworm” model to explain some of this: this remains the non-plus-ultra of mental game modelling – but his podcast passed away years ago.) Nevertheless, as you push your abilities, the need for mental discipline can be more than just a stand-in for poker IQ. Fortunately, as with Melissandre, most of the mental coach’s abilities are not magic or science but simple tricks and glamours, because what the mental coaches really are, are Life Coaches for people who won’t admit they need a temporary extra mommy or daddy. Basically, the good mental coach urges organization and goal setting, which just happen to be the basis of any successful human’s life. [1/2023] Surprisingy, the pod is still at it – that’s impressive. Still, this just remains silly – the intro claims “he would rather take a 1/2 player playing his A game than a 25/50 professional playing his C game.” That is fucking stupid, whatever it means, which is unclear in itself. Take them for what? Poker? Grifting? Who can say. In other news, I see the secret of the podcast’s continuity – a second host is helping out.

Really, such hesitation on my part is mostly unnecessary, because it turns out a lot of mental game podage just isn’t mental game. In Mindset Advantage, Elliot Roe is just another host, or rather, one with an especially soothing voice, asking boring performance and business questions and getting answers we have heard a million times from the usual suspects. If fact, I’ll be disappointed if I don’t see omnipresent Matt Berkey on to receive a nice bromide shower – aha, episode 63. Roe elicits real gems from his guest: “Do the best you can with the opportunity presented to you.” Groundbreaking, this from a man whose own paid podcast (not reviewed here as it is part of a paid training program) simply astonishes with its brilliance. Elliot has the temerity to then go on to reciprocally push his guest’s product without any real understanding of it or who it is for or its limitations, the very ones which Berkey to his credit has absolutely labored to improve and adjust, the ones that really do matter to actual players investing in their future. The mental game coach is in other words, a very suspicious part of the poker industrial complex. For Sandra Mohr and the upcoming doco, Eliot is suddenly “Highlighting Women in Poker,” having last had a female guest on his podcast six months earlier: more glamours. Roe’s recommendation to Sandra? “take steps to decrease or eliminate tilt.”  I mean, what do you say about this stuff? Maybe you need it, I won’t judge. As Judith Martin, a true giant of life’s mental game and master of our behavior in it, legendarily summarized, “Don’t, and don’t forget to.”

Poker on the Mind is possibly the more useful of the mental game poker podcasts, specifically catering to the special demands of tournament poker, which really is something of a mental trip. Where chip value leaves the one to one ratio, unusual decisions must be made, and I can see, contrary to Mason Malmuth’s otherwise strong if curmudgeonly evaluation of where this stuff belongs, a real place for life planning and coordination. Further, the prevailing trend of the young doing better in the tournament scene suggests that the old need an extra, non-strategic leg up to manage massive multiday clusterfucks. (Insert little blue pill jokes here.) All I’m sure about is that those entirely inaccurate, bland corporate cartoons of Patricia and Gareth are extremely tilting! Must be a mental game thing. [12/2021] I listen to this podcast after a very long time, and it hasn’t changed, tournament poker and mental game. A little staid, these two- I think they benefit from controversy and need a bit of a wakeup call. “What I’m thinking, in my mind” one of them says: sigh. [11/2022] Poker on the Mind is still at it – Dr. Cardner and Gareth have become the long-distance runners of mental game/tournament stuff.

He’s a competent interviewer but does babble over his guests a bit and tends to repeat himself: in one interview, Kevin Martin can barely get a word in for long stretches. Speaking of, Jeff is also a popular streamer and brings in a few of his fellow Twitchers. It’s light stuff on the whole: we get to hear a lot of softballs knocked out of the infield. Perhaps the best thing Jeff does to expand himself and his audience is interview a few interesting non-poker players, although his choice of personalities appears to be RNG’d. Nevertheless, if you love poker elephants, or if there is that sign-my-chest gene in your family, this is your bag. Jeff’s website is nice, too: slick, eat-off-the-counter stuff. I really hate the lack of dates on his media; very unprofessional for one who aspires to the smoothieness. Whatever you think of him, he delivers the volume: Coin Rivet is his other podcast, featuring poker and crypto. [4/2022] Really an admirable consistency and content overall and always with the biggest guests. Seems to have improved as an interlocuter. Still missing that incisive moment of insight or that important question: at heart, a grinder and a lot of a grinder’s arid hours. [11/2022] The man continues to spit out content, one of the top creators at this point. [5/23] Still going hard, still pretty bland. “Is it fair to say you’ve seen a lot?” he asks Boski, then moves on to the next cliche before anything meaningful can be excavated. “Phil Nagy is a visionary.” Gross’ main competition is ChatGPT and eighth graders who wear ties.

5/23 Curiously, Jeff shows up on HCL for a goofy SNG with Hellmuth and the chuckleheads he ingratiates himself with. Amazingly, Jeff is so naturally insincere even when he is dead drunk he seems like he is faking it. Truly a contemporary influencer talent level.

[2025] no episodes, probably done

Rating: three scarves.

Based on the first few episodes, the answer is a qualified yes. Berkey is, despite everything, clearly still at the top of his game thanks to his life regimen and a certain severity of ethos; the catch is only that he’s spending his time far more curiously, here in his most important years. The specific hosting challenge on his new show is in babysitting such a large cast of characters without shutting out the audience, as they are now listening in on a group chat instead of being spoken to articulately and at depth as before. Thus, Only Friends becomes, at its worst, someone else’s chitchat, with wildcat cousin Melissa aiming for yuks, Teen Wolf Landon RNGing some personality; yet more younger bros and cousins fill the room and provide our sitcom’s laugh track. Soto, who had absented himself from the family and aged backwards, remains likeable and sharp and has even lost most of his aloofness, which he previously had buried in histrionics on the vlogcast. In advertising the show, Berkey said they have the advantage of not representing a corporation or a business, somehow forgetting this is his business: we even get a browbeating email reminding us to attend the next poker camp on the day the show opens. Later he laughs at the MUGgers hustling for rake but meanwhile is pushing BetMGM right along with them. Well of course: follow the money and the concealed impatience- this is a significant time and financial and opportunity commitment, and something has to pay Matt for all of it: he has become the Man. On the other hand, Only Friends, at its best, can be the conversation poker needs and shares in, or more realistically, anyway, a mukbang for the disenfranchised and bewildered poker player who makes the S4Y base and much of the scene itself. We can see this happen in the Poker Bunny convo, which pleased and enlightened many. No matter what he steps in or on, Berkey is a leader and even carries off de rigeur sports trivial pursuit with authority. We’ll see. I cannot imagine the cast keeping to the schedule, and not all of them can hold a conversation, which means even more weight on the Berkey.

On cue later in the first week, a wading-pool discussion of marriage, children, and relationships demonstrates how poker and other decadent pursuits keep many in the man-boy zone, never mind encouraging the unfixable, ghost-creating heartbreak of the childless woman. For a real tour of the human soul, skip the pods for a few days and take a flyer on some infertility forums or dreary self-help groups. You’ll find yourself suddenly as sober as Berkey and about ten years older, if not wiser. Sticking to poker, the Evolution podcast is dense and interesting.  The pod on Poker Bunny shows him taking over and returning to the Vlogcast paradigm, while Soto has other things to do; as discussed above, it was a bit inevitable. [3/24] Funny to listen to the boys and girls have fainting spells over the Hawbaker story; lord save our crew from the kinds of relationships that exist in the world (never mind in what, LAS VEGAS), and never mind again their painful takes on how laws and speech work (this intensifies a week later on the Elon Musk episode). It is a little strange that poker is such a bubble and a babble of disillusioning, disappointing pathos while simultaneously not a particularly worldly or enriching experience; I wonder sometimes if I am really getting anything out of it. The open secret, one which Berkey has hammered at for some time when calling for us to take charge of our industry’s future, is that poker players are the customers of their industry, not its creators; consider cringey consumer language like “poker journey” forming our currency, or our susceptibility to, even enthusiasm for, token scams which defraud “heroes” we supposedly respect of control of their image. #Postivity or else. What he consistently misses is the underlying culture’s deep, unguidable malfeasance. Still, Uncle Berk wipes some tears and gets asked for more scary stories, perhaps each Thursday – not a bad idea. Headed to the top ten at this pace; the residue of silliness is not disqualifying, rather it’s in part what makes such stuff real: this is us, and this is relevant.  When the next episode focuses on strategy, the team touches home base again.

On the cheating scandals, Berkey reaches out to understanding motivations, saying it’s not about money but power. See, there’s a real discussion to be had. A new episode without him starts out so aimlessly I almost turn it off; the star remains necessary, it seems. They find coherence in reviewing some Pokergo variance jerk-off, when really, anyone who loves poker should be tuning out all the broadcasts associated with high stakes cheat culture, which has feasted on this fanboy, consumer hunger for years. If you really want to ensure integrity in the game, you 1) hold the entire upper market structure accountable by withdrawing support of all kinds, 2) play and watch local, which is always more transparent, and thus 3) make the bigger/national/global industry re-earn our interest. Instead, the crew just yuks it up while fingering a few serious notes, immune from having to think about anything too seriously as long as industry liquidity and crypto are buoyant. (Landon, in fact, has just come from the Pokergo tourney that featured multiple generations of known scammers.  Their two houseboy commentary eunuchs even spend time lionizing sportscard manchild and multi-accounting all-star Bleznick, yes on the very day of all the cheating allegations.) When Only Friends get to the Hustler hand strategy, the episode really comes together and the energy is intense, even though Soto, usually a very savvy observer and a hidden intelligence behind the persona, is wrong about the Garrett situation – so close, though.

Meanwhile, the crew is developing, and the Bryn episode is a watershed. Soto confesses to having been ghosted and sounds mortified; this is genuine manning-up and not his usual chat-friendly, peepsicles persona that claimed he would cheat on a woman sooner than a poker player just an hour earlier. Melissa continues to find a stronger, less silly voice. Landon emerges from his shyness as eccentric, clear-headed, and youthfully limited: he keeps confusing the model with the theory. Andre, however, is revealed more and more as unbearable, making obviously poor observations while delivering the buzzwords; Berkey doesn’t even bother to respond to him in “take that as a comment” fashion at several points. Andre’s equivocations over Soto’s minor transgressions actually make them sound worse. (Andre is much stronger on other shows later.) He probably mostly serves to feed Berkey’s ravenous appetite for business and physique ideation. Berkey shines as the cheating scandals unfold; he is a seminal voice of contemporary poker; I don’t think we really have better. However, the month closes with the crew enthralled by California celebrity culture ambassador Adam22, a sort of dullard influencer with a nose for silicone and easy revenue streams; out with a whimper.

[5/2022] Sleepover dating talk episode is up and down; it would be savvy of them to recognize the connection between the poker business practices they tut-tut over and the sexual ones they giggle over; save those sexts. I hold my breath for the Roe discussion but it was far better than it could have been: no one called the ruling a law, good start, although the idea that the U.S. constitution is subsequent to a poll is, well, special, as well as unfortunately endemic.  (In fact, this part of the show demonstrates, for the nth iteration, a real problem with the abortion and law debate: the actors involved rarely understand their own country or even why it is important to do so. To a large degree, everyone could have what they want, such is the genius of the federal system, but people mainly prefer to shout down disagreement rather than use the apparatus given to us to find rational compromises or even solutions; note the connection to the slightly less vitriolic but extremely au courant need to reargue the already solved problem of speech every generation, every year, every issue.) Next episode on the Kenney/Zemani texts really shows the immense value of Berkey as poker spokesman, no one compares and no complaints I make matter compared to his knowledge and ability to communicate it – he is the man. He heroically attempts to take on the near impossible issue of women in poker with popular wit Jamie K., but is a bit hidebound by the trap of abused words such as misogyny and humane as well as cultural mores, which can’t or won’t be discussed honestly without extreme effort: the contradictions presented are unconquerable without addressing the mote in thine eye. Both Jamie and Melissa add a lot of value on this one, very impressive overall. Moving on, we’re back to Melissa and her defecation fascination, nicely tied to crypto and the other question and proving Jamie K’s idea that marketing to women is often just marketing to more men. Crypto episodes are weak: it’s not a coincidence that poker players mistake speculation for investment; the same people who buy tournament packages should not be managing your finances. Tuning in for the latest cheating in Texas they follow with embarrassingly misinformed political talk. Next, the leaderless crew is stymied and confused by a simple image and sternly recommend a series of allowable cliches to replace it. One can only hope they are trolling their flunkies. Landon now emerging, against odds, as the second most interesting person on Only Friends.  Despite Berkey’s consistently strong contribution and some important, lightning-quick reactions to challenging issues, this podcast is a good reminder: find your own friends or you have to listen to somebody else’s. Now that’s a moral.

[6/2022] Another “Cheating Episode” is announced and I actually think it’s going to be about one of their private lives, that’s how much they chitter about themselves. Still, I’ve commented enough for a while. The complaints are fun to have, because engaging with ideas and people is important. This is basically a good to great show: congrats. As the WSOP runs, the show emerges as the most important one, replacing other WSOP covering pods like PokerNews. Berkey’s watercooler vision has come to fruition. The running joke that some conglomerate will buy S4Y is amusing, but also kind of rueful when you match it up to Berkey’s obsession with some visionary, a new Carey Katz, turning poker into a successful and greater industry: these are both non-starters but I don’t think they realize what the joke actually is, for all the laughs. It no longer matters, though, as the pod has become a community mainstay: Berkey has won again. They belabor the Hustler scandal excitedly but are saved by Berkey’s intelligence. [11/2022] Really dragging of late, hard to watch. As the year closes out, the team’s increasing comfort with themselves does start to detract from coverage; sports, lame jokes, and old stories require a lot of patience (read: weed) or fast-forwarding. It’s all so predictable, I suppose. Poker is not enough, but nor is this curiously slavish devotion to the sports industrial complex.

As Berkey starts through the latest round of cheating allegations, I have to conclude his mind is elsewhere, and that leaves us with way too much Tortoise and Conrad yuks. Landon eats eggshells now, and we need to discuss it. (Worse, listening to a twenty-three-year-old regurgitate cliches on business and life is downright unbearable: this is often not a podcast for adults.) The tedious and inexplicably overpraised Henry Kilbane joins in and weighs down the conversation with his standard banalisms. Next, we learn carnival barkers Brent Hanks and Jeff Platt are in. It’s unique and compelling voices that make for great content, but instead the pod continues to take on dead weight. Landon and Lamana have become unbearable, with their stupid catch phrases and uninformed micro-opinions; it would be hard to sound lamer than when Landon talks about someone “cooking.” Once the rising star of the pod, he clearly needs to get off the air and find a life outside poker.

Checking back in, Berkey goes back to basics and runs an excellent panel on MDA with stellar guests – echoes of the Vlogcast, once so sharp and still timely. Quickly, however, we’re back to slap-happy sports takes and ad hoc dickery. Lamana is blessedly away but they video him in, ffs. Melissa provides some relief, as she is no try hard. Yet, for all the problems, Only Friends still belong near the top, demonstrating what a big need they fill with constant, timely commentary, a true poker watercooler, and how they will inevitably be awarded by the GPI and the poker world, which is so voracious for chatter. Poker needs Berkey, and so he has won again.

[11/23] New graphics and a new segment, In the Muck, in which Berkey, maybe for the first time, effectively teaches poker to his mostly hopeless crew. He really does give some good info. On the other hand, the price is listening to Brian Lamana and Guapo on poker, which is an excruciating, stab-yourself-in-the-ears-to-make-it-stop experience. The 99 hand in January is just so amazingly bad all while the chorus says “I love it, I love it.” Then Berkey and Landon straighten them out. Compelling content, I suppose. In the end, all that matters is that Berkey has succeeded in his desire to run the primary watercooler show in poker. We can’t stop watching even if we want to.

[2025] Some of their best stuff has happened this year, including incisive talks with Andrew Barber, someone who has changed from high IQ partisan pest to a genuinely thoughtful interlocuter of ideas.

Matt Berkey knows so much about poker and its real, existing culture; he is the great generalist of the game and this podcast, for all its trivial problems, is very good for poker. I haven’t really said much about this pod of late but its absence will be felt. Good Morning, Poker is a necessary show – will it carry on? While we won’t miss the side clowns, the regularity of coverage has been excellent.

[4/2025] The ending is real and unfortunate for poker. Overall, a great job. Berkey is going to be hard to replace.

Rating: AQs

Caitlin Comeskey and Nikki Limo, aiming to be your new sassy but harmless but cute friends, kicked things up and off with some Brad and Andrew kitsch wherein Melissa Schubert stole the show. Which means this first pod is not really their first work; maybe we can skip to the second one. The first five minutes sound like why parents regret having children, then we go to yes, outtakes from a pod that has just started – are we getting a Best Of next week? – then we go to bios and why they are doing things and some takes on the GPI and some tournament and and and and and.

Limo says she fell in love with poker and its community and was inspired to “make content in this space.” Chills. So, nowhere to go but up, and the good news is, the talent is here to do it. Over multiple episodes, Nikki proves she has the confidence and charisma to carry the show. There is a sort of significance to a podcast like this existing: a rising number of women in poker, zoomers, and apparently potential money in the market to turn them on. It’s going to be close: as Limo settles in, it’s apparent she’s here for the girls, and that’s a tough niche in poker. Still, this is more than a pod, this is a Show, and has ambitions. Will they rise to them and the expectations they created? Third episode with Jesse Sylvia, and more in rapid succession: that’s a good sign. [8/23] Settling into the standard interview template and interviewees it looks like Aceholes is here to stay? Called up to the majors by Berkey, it’s not clear what the future holds. [11/23] Gross out stories with Joey. Joey worries about vinegar expiring. Good LCD, dating for dorks stuff.

[5/24] Nothing for a while. It’s really about moving up, and both are Nikki and Caitlin are making moves in the industry. Rating: A9o

However, while this gives her far more dignity than most in the industry, it isn’t always an asset. While asking Chris Moorman the supposedly probing questions Aron’s team settled on, she tries to encourage him by answering the questions herself, but her answers are so canned they are meaningless. She’d like to “understand all languages” and know if “there is intelligent life on other planets”; well, who wouldn’t? Travel is wonderful, but people lose their sense of belonging. Different cultures use different expressions. Loyalty is important in friendships. People from different countries have differences – but also similarities. Both Chris and Kara keep telling us the questions are interesting. Just when I’m ready to give up, Kara tells her story of a real version of the “male gaze,” which is compelling and explains much. Then, more: “Better to be the bullied than the bully.” Well that’s worth talking about – while apparently even Aron can’t make Moorman interesting, Kara’s work in trying has fleshed out the debonair hostess.

[5/2021] Checked out the latest with Ali Nejad, and Kara’s structure performs the miracle it is supposed to, getting a great and moving story from someone who otherwise consistently presents as a fool. The light approach to his life now contextualized, the listener really does find what Aron was reaching for. The Ebony pod is good, too, if gentle. Patrick Leonard is a good show; I like Kara trying to control her nervousness as he starts to babble about reality and simulation, a peculiar bugaboo of our age and a sign she’s gotten to him and his foibles; really, this podcast seems significantly improved with trial and error and Kara relaxing a bit. Despite the continuing inanity of some of the questions, and a too-slow climax to the more interesting queries, I’m moving this into the top ten, at least for now, or until she says ‘Fomo’ again.

[2022] HOP gets through the GPI process. [3/2022] Kara really needs to consider skipping the preliminaries and get to the good questions, most of these guys just aren’t “fascinating,” as her promo filler contends: the rule of opposites in effect. In awkward new episode, Benny repeatedly can’t think of anything interesting to say while Kara affirms him maternally and unhelpfully. Eventually, the heavier questions score, but the overall effect is of an inquiry into bourgeois happiness. Poker is dead, just not in the way they mean. J. Van Fleet interview delivers nicely: this is a sweet and well-intentioned podcast overall. As 2022 closes, many good guest choices here. In the Jaman episode, Kara is at her polar best and worst, still inaccessible, remote, and unaware at heart – she says Jaman’s vlog is “influential” when in fact no one duplicates what he does, what she means is “popular” but is stuck in newscaster mode. She says the poker community is both “big” and “small” without any irony. Over to you, Jeff. Yet her smooth performance and overall excellence is what counts – it would be better if she was in a more prestigious platform than shilling for 888. She is a pro. [5/23] The method doesn’t get much of interest out of Bonomo, somehow, other than some observations on feminism and dating; the suicide ideation details are elided into “helpline” talk. FFS.

In July 2023, Kara meets a real challenge for her and Aron’s hypothesis: can she make Johnny “Vibes” likeable? Calling her a “vocal prominent person” and spilling a bunch of blubber about “passion” – the insincere always struggle to sound human – Johnny starts rough, but the magic of Aron and Kara’s approach eventually do serve their purpose.

[1/24] Kara has announced the end of the podcast, one of poker’s best, which will leave up for a time in honor of her good work. Rating: One eyeball

Gman is a fine first guest, of course. Nick gets up to take a piss in the middle of the pod, it’s so, uh, relaxed. In another episode, Nick keeps telling us he didn’t know what was going on with Veronica, deigning to be above her trivialities; it’s not really the great thing he seems to think it is, ignorance. Still, if the conflict and excitement here is Nick and Veronica bickering over their mutual silliness and cover-your-ass disclaimers, at least that’s something. However, as the new puritans, always hunting down reasons to be offended, shout at Nick online, I have to root for him and Veronica.

In episode 5, Nick lands Phil Hellmuth. Unlike the Jungleman interview, this one is much more relevant, as Nick has the strength to ask topical and controversial questions. On the other hand, it is ridiculous how often he interrupts his guest, perhaps out of nervousness, while continuously flattering himself about his honesty. Easy, big guy, you already won the war. Episode 8 begins abysmally as the two laugh at each other’s conversation, but it’s not witty or interesting enough to carry off. Then, they start oversharing on interesting stuff from HCL – Nick probably got in a bit a hot water for those hot details. Filling an hour is harder than people think – all the harder with the public’s eyes all on Nick and the Hustler.

[11/2022] As Nick bombs at handling the HCL scandal, it’s hard to be objective about this podcast, with all that irritating self-satisfaction he sure hasn’t earned. That said, his interview with Airball is well done and the show clearly has legs. Still runs the embarrassing disclaimer to kick off the show: Nick regularly blocks people on Twitter, hides his tweets, and does other whiny shit but still wants credit as a bold straight shooter. C’mon buddy. [5/23] The buffoonery continues strong, well done. [9/23] Nick puts together a strong interview with benighted clown Nic Airball, then designates a new subseries called NV Raw to underscore his L.A. radio truthteller ambitions. Somehow Nick didn’t see through Rob Mercer, which is interesting. Overall, it’s quietly uninteresting podcast for people who think Blank Check Ben, Jboogs, and Airball have star power. A bit of an L.A. thing, I suppose.

[3/24] Still going strong. Poker Karen episode is good stuff as the down-low narcissist reveals himself.

With the scandal already fading and Nick basically banished from public life, it would be really something if he had to the balls to live up to the show’s motto and run this podcast now. However, I think he is done for quite a while, unfortunately.

Rating: A10o

Phil meets but does not exceed expectations in the first episode, having his typical earnest talk but essentially unable to make much of the incredibly straightforward Henry Kilbane. Lots of earnest questions and answers that everyone has heard a thousand times. In the second, this problem is solved when he takes on the far more interesting “Rachel Lees” Twitter account user. “Rachel” has created something of a following in the poker world through his significant business and tech industry acumen, intriguing opinions on the game, and an about-to-burst sensitivity; among other things, he wrote a deranged sixteen-page screed about one poker player who had displeased him in a Twitter spat, while successfully conning enough pokertwits that the real problem is the “faceless” accounts that disagreed with his faceless account. At one point “Rachel” asks to be “given a pass” for his angrier outbursts because he may have been “triggered” by your “piece of shit” behavior. Hello? Bueller? Phil? Anyone hearing this? Mr. Galfond, bless his heart, just has nothing to say: it would have been some very good pod content if he had interrogated the flimsy persona instead of just nodding along while a modulated, anonymous voice issues his alternating deranged proclamations and powerful insights in Penguin or Joker villain fashion. While “Rachel” uses Twitter, in one sense, correctly and understands general strategic thinking and gamefication better than anyone, he has overlooked a humbler truth which is far more important in poker: your name and your word matter to an unusual degree. Rachel, by his own doing, has neither, leaving him underappreciated and prone to ugly rants. Phil, on the other hand, is one of our greatest assets, a hero in a city of low-lives, but his podcast demonstrates that not everyone is good at everything, and that not every Bruce Wayne is a Batman. [5/23] Nothing new, just short Youtube bits. Rating: Safe for all ages.

The real change is the addition of the one and only Daniel Negreanu as star, expert, and sponsor.  Daniel, intermittently on the show, is animated and offers reasonable opinions; his common sense, upbeat approach is often accurate, rakegate and whatever baggage he brings aside. (Daniel takes a lot of unnecessary grief; he can barely urinate without some worry-wart wondering if it’s good for poker or not.)  The hawking of product isn’t overdone. If you like these guys enough to care about their opinions on various non-questions and miss the 2+2 podcast’s breezy coverage of the scene, this is easily your show. [1/2022] Nominated for the new GPIs, but it’s not for me: chacun a son gout, eh? [4/2022] Lame disclaimer greets us, then Terrence with the witless observation of his co-host being white. Now, this is an ostensibly quality show because of all the experience and knowledge and legacy, but like a fading television series, the character writing has dropped off substantially. DN doesn’t really call spots “bougie”; his easy insincerity has always been the flip side of his friendliness. Terrence, not much of an observer usually, almost reaches a point in a soliloquy on high stakes community behaviors, but no one helps him finish his thought. As they wind up some energy the show gets a lot better. Daniel really comes through with a strong observation about social pressure and the real limits of “community” enforcement; it’s great to hear someone cut through the bullshit. Poker news and discussion shows are necessary, I’m glad they are here for those who like them; chacun a son gout encore. [7/2022] Audio is a bit off in latest. WSOP coverage but just too behind Only Friends to really matter: you can’t listen to them all. [5/23] Still going strong, although I personally just can’t listen to these guys. Rating: K9s

In one Heads Up For Rolls, Brad Owen’s piggybacking of vlog pioneer Andrew Neeme reaches its apotheosis in an exhausted-by-success revue, hosted by Roland Boothby, marketeer for the irreplaceable live tournament resource Hendon Mob. Boothby also delivers James Hartigan and Joe Stapleton, in case that was a concern. I haven’t checked out all the pods in this consortium, but they include First Flag with laringitical poker insider “Eric” (it’s not made clear to the listener who this is or what a flag is, but possibly a Hendon Mob thing), GPInterview, and an ambiguously titled The Poker Show, also hosted by Roland; calling it A Poker Show would be both more funny and more accurate. On the Jeff Platt episode, we get a recommendation for the best buffet in Las Vegas, a concern for which many Americans have a disturbing passion. Long story short, it’s all a bit of a marketing mess in already crowded space, but it just doesn’t matter when there is some person out there for everyone and everything: most of this series is for tournament players. Incidentally, ever-sunny Platt pitches his upcoming new podcast “No Gamble No Future,” a phrase which officially jumps the shark on that day. [12/2021] Try to give the latest Poker Show episode a shot but basically as sonically unlistenable and disorganized as their Gypsum labelling suggests, I guess this is a show for insiders and tournament moles who have evolved beyond more mundane poker daylight concerns. Eric continues to be the man in poker most in need of a cough drop. [3/2022] Check out the Poker Show again, seems like lots of MTT chatter, so more important for that crowd. As the year moves on, they change the name of one of the shows? It’s all a little confusing. The link goes nowhere, the name is unpronounceable: these are the guys in charge of the GPI awards, naturally. Rating: 99 vs J10

The theme turns when Jake finds himself unable to quite describe how to, in fact, get better, all while Nate bombards him with his all-you-can-eat-spaghetti-night of ideas. Toole isn’t just stymied at what a beginner should do, first contradicting himself over the usefulness of a famous poker book: he really is at something of a loss at how to describe the nature of the game and its fundamental incentives, eventually punting their imaginary beginner over to Upswing or Run It Once (the latter being a disaster for the novice. One for two, if the Barstool fans are counting.) The winding conversation demonstrates how the ability to describe how the game works beyond the mere mechanics of what most winning players employ by rote is a genuinely tall order. No wonder so many are lost (and no wonder there are so many of these damn poker podcasts). In true comic fashion, and having long since forgotten the listener questions they were supposed to answer, beginner Nate provides an answer they can agree on: start somewhere, anywhere. An enjoyable listen with a big future, but I’d still slip Nate his meds every now and then, if I were Jake. [2/2021] Might be dead, no shows since 2020.

[9/2021] Looks like they resumed this summer, and with more hosts. [3/2022] Check them out again for the sake of hearing Gman, not very inspiring. Cliches about Ethan’s “heart” are more than stupid – what Rampage has is serious grey money from raking dunces in club games that he vanity spews with ridiculous tournament lines to awe the hicks. He’s a businessman and a brand, but all we get is fanboy hype here. If it wasn’t for Barstool Corp sponsorship, this would be a forgotten pod; instead it lives on the guests the big name attracts. “But like, like, like, uhhh, like…” Then they stumble through the interview. They don’t even manage to clean up the sound; I’m embarrassed for them. Good guest(s) though. Next episode features high price corporate sponsorship, cold open conversation on basketball, more audio incompetence, and sloppy intro of guest Zach Elwood. These clowns just don’t give a fuck but apparently some drooler demographic is out there is, like, downloading heaps. This is why democracy doesn’t work. Again, great guests: Zach is full of interesting information and dialogues well. What’s odd is it would take very little work to make this a top ten podcast, given they have all the ingredients, but I don’t think they have the interest. Curious. [7/2022] On-site coverage of the boys’ WSOP. [11/2022] Impressive rate of podcasting continues looks like they are committed and doing better work. [5/23] A lineup change again? I hear things continue to get better. [8/23] Packed with ads, apparently people listen to this garbage even while they publicly muse about what they’d rather be doing than podcasting. Clowns.

[3/24] All that audience going to waste again. Barstool needs to find a solid podcasting team. Rating: 23o

Bernard joined his podcast with PokerNews in 2018, allowing him significant visibility. Bernard is clear-voiced and organized.  Bernard’s poker podcasts follow a similar but natural story-line, where he hypes wins and prize-pools and money and prestige, and only by the end does he get into any strategy or nuance or issues. If you are deeply immersed in the tournament scene, or can get through the opens, you will find good content, as Bernard eventually elicits opinions from serious players in the games on key subjects. Such a perfect platform, with a strong and competent history thanks to its knowledgeable host, could use a formatting upgrade: sometimes hidden gems just need to be polished. [2/2021] Bernard seems to be out at Pokernews, and now with Cardplayer Lifestyle. [11/2021] Nearing 2000 episodes, Bernard deserves recognition for his poker journalism, along with Ante Up. [3/2022] Catch up with the Jeff Platt episode, Bernard really blabbering on here more than I remember him being prone, gotta let that guest speak. Maybe this is how the evenly matched dominate each other. Interview with Phil is solid, time to give Bernard his due and move him back to the top ten for a [3/2022] bit. Next, complete dedication to Women’s History Month. [7/2022] Nothing will keep Bernard and his pace of pods with big names down. One of the best podcasts overall and a top ten contender. [5/23] Sixteenth anniversary of a solid podcast that remains underappreciated.

12/2023, no content since summer. Done after 16 years? We’ll leave it here out of respect, for now.

Seems done. Ave.

Rating: QJs.

[2022] Looks like one podcast might be too much for Henry, nothing since episode one. He got public attention and stroking from Matt Berkey, which is more than most sorry podcasters get, so I guess FTG. [2/2022] Well, speak of the devil and he appears. Back in action, we’ll leave this pod as active for now. Getting through the Berkey baseball story for the umpteenth time, it occurs to me that you should listen when people tell them who you are, and Berkey, who I have thought of mainly as an interesting poker player, is really a dispirited baseball player trapped in gambling. Really, though, the point is Henry doesn’t know or care that Matt has been asked this stuff a million times. You should rarely listen to people who don’t know their own medium. [7/2022] A third episode finally appears, this time with a less known mindset coach. Not much of interest, it’s really not clear why this podcast was so hyped. Henry is a cordial bloke, I suppose, and has a strong pre-existing following. Tons of potential here, but work to do to make this a top ten pod, however.

Listening to the latest with CRAIbaby, I go through a cycle of thoughts, first thinking I finally understand the appeal: this is more of a Sunday afternoon chitchat with the bros in the circle, captured as a pod, than a more probing interview like the Grid or Thinking Poker. Yes, a lot of thoughts everyone has heard before, but we get to hear them from winners in the field at a comfortable pace; Henry’s High Tea with Poker Players. Fair enough. There’s ridiculous background noises on this episode, however, like someone is slam-dunking a toaster, but Henry and his guest say nothing about it – how does this get released like this? At one point Henry asks Wey Xie how he separates the quality info from the noise, and on cue someone stuffs the toaster right into the net. Two points for symmetry! Henry: “if you focus first on fundamentals, you can then move to advanced [stuff.]” Ah.  A real mix here: great life management advice is the highlight.

However, listening to this stuff for too long is like chewing on a deflavored piece of gum. The world is on fire figuratively and literally, space is ripe for exploration, global conflict is coming, and these high-stakes sun-runners are worried about their sleep quality, self-sabotage, and how to copy other people more effectively. That’s when I realize this pod and others that take this hushed, serious tone to trading bromides on life back and forth aren’t casual chats, but more like naturally developing struggle sessions for the New Epicureans, who differentiate themselves from the old ones by not being lushes but instead luxuriating in themselves. It’s a fine life, sort of. What’s disappointing about it and about our betters in poker, is that these young, good-looking, healthy, capable geniuses who have it all and reteach the game to us, is their remarkable triviality, and what’s more, their very seriousness about this triviality. This focus and promotion of a life of self-benefit and easy mercantile skimmery is disappointing, but now a major feature of poker culture. These are the kind of people who find everything from mates to meditation through an app: we see the plain connection of life to social media avatarage. [11/2022] Nothing since July. I keep checking, given how everyone keeps praising him inexplicably, but even his straight-man streaming commentary is middle brow, uninspired, and beholden to every cliche: “Interesting spot.” “Casual million.” “Limping is pimping.”  The yawning is crowning. [5/23] Nothing for a while, looks finished but I’ll leave it up for a while because he is so present in the industry. [8/23] Looks over but the reality is he’ll bring in some poker celeb soon for another marathon yawner when the “skej” lines up. [11/23] Dead after four episodes and endless, unearned praise. Rating: Standard, bro.

I’m not sure she’s released it as a true podcast – i.e. without video and optimized for such – but is already parceling it out for Youtube “engagement.” Lynne starts with Berkey, whose story has been told so often he is becoming, against all expectations, a sort of minor Phil Hellmuth, an overexposed lifestyle cheerleader as much as he is a powerful advocate for a more ethical poker industry. For her first show she arrives in Meghan Markle comfort garb and the questions are about as cozy. Her skill as an interviewer is revealed to be her speed and agreeableness – she could take this a long way. However, will she add any insight or interest to add to conversations when they are not about her enjoying be young? When she confronts her “worst fear” the words come out as if she has never thought about the future, and she immediately moves onto “your favorite purchase.” Now she’s on her turf; apparently, she desires a jacket which tracks everything about her day, including how “my skin is doing”: reality is always more ridiculous than fiction. When she goes over Berkey’s writing, which he essentially abandoned in 2018, we are reminded of just how out of touch the average influencer is with basically everything, but that their paradigm is to find people for interviews who will bring them back to reality as a kind of public performance piece. Berkey does just this and more, rescuing the conversation at the end with some heavy memories – can Lynne repeat this seeking without him? They seem intimate, which makes this first time easier, but can she repeat the performance with people she knows less? Stronger interview with Dylan Weisman – good start so far. [8/23] Nothing since March – fooled me again. She’ll come up with a new project and redeploy soon. [11/23] Basically finished.